


Redemption

by JCRGirl



Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: Abuse, Alternate Universe, M/M, Mpreg, Rape/Non-con Elements
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-10-15
Updated: 2017-11-26
Packaged: 2017-12-29 11:49:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 28
Words: 171,880
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1005078
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JCRGirl/pseuds/JCRGirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Running from an abuive relatonship, Jared and his twin sons arrive in the small town of Wowakan, CO. Picking up the pieces, a complication comes in the form of Jared's ex-boyfriend, Jensen.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

 

Jared trudged up the stairs, tugging the bowtie of his tuxedo loose as he went. He hated fundraising events, loathed attending them with every fiber of his being. Everyone preening like peacocks in their finery, supposedly raising money for whatever charity was the flavor of the month, while never once donating a cent to the cause of the night. Tonight’s black-tie gala was in honor of the local child abuse center and while Jared was frugal with his money – most of it already ear-marked for a specific use – it was a foundation that he believed in.  His $1000 contribution had been the only one from his table – the compliment consisting of a few bank owners and several CEOs of Fortune 500 companies. They weren’t there for the children in need of safe homes and a chance at better lives. They were there to have their picture in the society pages. False proof to the public, in the smudgy tones of newsprint, that they cared for the little people.

At the top of the stairs, he turned toward the sound of voices coming down the hall. A blonde woman exited a room on the left, startling at his unexpected presence. “Mr. Padalecki,” she breathed, hand coming up to rest on her chest, “I didn’t hear you come in.”

Placing a reassuring hand on her arm, he smiled warmly at her. “I’m sorry, Emily, I didn’t mean to scare you.” His eyes flicked to the partially closed door then looked at his watch, frowning at the time.

Noting his displeasure, Emily bit her bottom lip, eyes wide and apologetic. “I’m so sorry, Mr. Padalecki. I know it’s late. I tried…”

Jared raised his hand, stopping her explanation. “It’s alright. I’m not mad. Trust me, if anyone knows how trying it can be, it’s me. Thank you for staying later than usual, this dog and pony show lasted longer than it should have.”

“It was my pleasure. Was tonight better than the AHA dinner last month?” She teased, living the ‘good life’ vicariously through the kind-hearted man in front of her.

“Well,” Jared thought for a minute then smirked, “The chicken wasn’t dry.”  

“See,” she smiled, “silver lining.”

He chuckled, head turning as poorly concealed giggles floated through the cracked open door. “I guess I better get in there and pretend to have some control. I left your money on the table next to your car keys. Are you able to see yourself out?”

“Of course, Mr. Padalecki,” she blushed. “I really am sorry about,” she tilted her head toward the door.

“Don’t worry. I’ll take care of it. You just concern yourself with getting him safely. Good night, Emily.” He moved so she could pass.

“Good night, Mr. Padalecki.” She descended the stairs, sighing dreamily when she was certain she was out of earshot. She quickly gathered her things, along with the promised envelope containing her pay, and exited quietly, thankfully avoiding anyone else who might have been in the house.

 

* * *

 

 

Jared shoved the door open, careful that it didn’t bang on the wall behind it, and stood in the doorway with his hands on his hips. “Shouldn’t you be asleep by now,” he growled menacingly.

“Daddy!” Came the excited twin squeals as two blonde little boys jumped from beds and rushed to him, completely indifferent to his intimidating posture.

Rolling his eyes, Jared picked up the six year olds and hugged them tightly. Nothing like a night filled with pictures of battered children to make you hold our own close. Laughing as they peppered his face with kisses, he carried them back to their beds. “Okay, okay. You’re forgiven, but it’s seriously time for night-night.”

“Read us a story,” Teddy asked, slanted eyes morphing into the perfect puppy pout he’d inherited from his dad.

Benji, confident in his brother’s begging skills, hopped down from his bed and skipped to the bookshelf to retrieve their favorite book. Passing Jared on his way back to bed, he handed the book over with a smug smile.

Huffing a laugh, Jared pulled the weathered rocking chair from the corner to the space between their beds. Sitting down, book lying on his lap, he looked from one little boy to the other. His sons couldn’t have been more different if he’d been given a choice. Although, they were both extremely intelligent – a fact that led them into more danger than any other – they were the polar opposites. Teddy was tender-hearted, his empathy knowing no bounds. He was a sweet, timid child, more likely of the two to give and need comfort. His reserved nature often led people to underestimate him, much to their chagrin when they discovered he was the mastermind behind their more nefarious schemes. Benji was a true force of nature, the perfect yang to his twin’s yin, the devil to his angel. As extroverted as Teddy was introverted, Benji was independent and resourceful. If Teddy was the brains, Benji was the brawn. Refusing to be placated, he made sure everyone knew what he was capable of. The one character trait they shared was an intense loyalty that manifested in a fierce protectiveness. The kids on the Kindergarten playground learned quickly that if you messed with one of the Padalecki twins, you’d get both.

“Thought you wanted us to go to sleep sometime tonight,” Benji asked, dryly. Ah, he forgot to mention Benji’s flair for sarcasm.

“Yeah, yeah,” he drawled, lifting the book and opening to the first page. “Get snuggled down.” He waited patiently as his children wiggled beneath their blankets, Teddy hugging his stuffed bear to his chest while Benji held his stuffed dog in a strangle hold.

“Congratulations. Today is your day. You’re off to Great Places. You’re off and away,” Jared began, smiling when the boys sighed happily in unison. He continued on, losing himself in the rhythmic meter, voice growing grimmer as he approached a more serious part. “You will come to a place where the streets are not marked. Some windows are lighted, But mostly they’re darked. A place you could sprain both your elbow and chin! Do you dare to stay out? Do you dare to go in? How much can you lose? How much can you win?” He paused in his recitation, eyes moving to the window. He stared at the inky depth of the night sky, silently contemplating the words he’d just spoken.

“You okay, Daddy,” Teddy’s voice soft with concern, pulled him from his revelry.

“Of course, Teddy Bear,” he shook his head to clear it and readjusted the book. Under the rhymed verses, Jared could hear someone ascending the stairs, one heavy footfall at a time. He ignored the ominous thuds and turned the page.

“I’m afraid that _some_ times you’ll play lonely games too. Games you can’t win ‘cause you’ll play against you. _All Alone!_ Whether you like it or not, Alone will be something you’ll be quite a lot. And when you’re alone, there’s a very good chance you’ll meet things that will scare you right out of your pants. There are some, down the road between hither and yon, that can scare you so much you won’t want to go on.”

“Jared.”

Jared closed his eyes as the sound of his name, the voice infusing so much disappointment and anger in the simple word. “Yes, Timothy?”

“Shouldn’t the children be asleep? Isn’t that what we pay that _woman_ for? Or is it so she can appreciate your ass and boost your ego?”

Taking a deep breath, Jared laid the book in his lap, hands folded across the flared pages. “Emily is a good babysitter.The boys were just a little wound up tonight and she had trouble getting them down. I was reading them a story to help them settle.”

The man at the door, snorted harshly. “You coddle them too much. You’ll make them weak. Teddy’s already a pathetic little pantywaist. Why don’t you buy them dresses and be done with it?”

“Timothy, please,” Jared chastised, closing the book.

“Teddy is not panties,” Benji reared up on his knees, the blankets pooling around his thighs, and eyes glowing with righteous anger. 

“Sssh,” Jared hissed, turning pleading eyes full of warning at the little boy.

“But, Daddy,” Benji countered, pointing at the figure in the doorway, “Father called Teddy a name. He’s being a mean man.”

“How dare you disrespect me, you ungrateful snot-nosed leech?” Timothy stalked toward the bed containing the red-faced child. “You and your brother have been nothing but trouble from the moment you took your first breath and if you’re not careful I’ll choke your last one from your greedy, selfish throats.”

Jared saw Timothy raise his arm and moved on complete instinct, his ingrained nature to protect his children propelling his body into action without conscious thought. He flung himself on the bed between the falling hand and his innocent son, head snapping to the right under the force of the blow. The resounding smack left the room in utter silence except for the small hitched sobs coming from the beds.

“I want these brats asleep then you come straight to our room. We need to discuss your behavior at tonight’s fundraiser. You have five minutes, Jared, not one second more.” Timothy turned on his heel and exited the room.

“D-daddy,” Benji’s voice was a choked sob, wretched and broken, “I’m so-so s-sorry, D-daddy.”  Tears sprang to Jared’s eyes as the sound of his child’s anguish shattered his soul. He could take anything, but that sound.

Blinking away the moisture, he pasted on his best reassuring smile and turned toward his son. “It’s okay, Benji boy. Father is just angry. He didn’t mean to.” He wiped the trailing drops from the chubby cheeks and guided the boy back down to the mattress. Benji’s eyes were uncertain, he was six, not stupid. Even at this tender age, he knew it wasn’t okay.

Jared looked over at the other bed. If he thought his heart couldn’t break any further, that notion was dispelled by the terrified look on Teddy’s cherubic face. Teddy was huddled in the corner, his chin resting on his knees, and Jared could tell he was shaking. He sighed and rubbed a hand down his face. He’d tried so hard to keep this from his boys – years of painstaking hiding and covering to preserve their naiveté.

Holding out a hand, he beckoned the frightened boy over. “C’mon, Teddy. Sleep in Benji’s bed tonight.”

Hesitantly, Teddy crawled out of his bed and made his way across the small space to his brother’s bed. “Father doesn’t like it when I sleep with Benji,” Teddy whispered, climbing between Benji’s construction truck sheets.

“I’ll close the door and he won’t check. What Father doesn’t know won’t hurt us, right?” Jared smoothed the flannel sheets over his twin’s bodies and pressed kisses to their foreheads. They nodded their heads, looking anything but convinced yet trusting their Daddy.

“Good night, Teddy bear. Good night, Benji boy. I love you.” He moved quickly to the door, knowing that half of his five minutes were already up.

“Night, Daddy,” Benji answered.

“We love you, too,” Teddy added.

Blowing a kiss at them, Jared pulled the door shut.  Benji curled his small arms around his brother and held him close. Humming quietly, he rocked Teddy in time with the beat, hoping the song would mask the muffled sounds they both knew would soon be coming from their parent’s room.

 

* * *

 

“You embarrassed me tonight, Jared. Fawning all over Josh Duhamel like that,” Timothy said conversationally, fingers expertly unfastening his gold and onyx cufflinks, the gold bar sliding smoothly through the buttonhole. His lip curled into a sneer at the mention of his business associate, his true feelings about the man shining through, and Jared wondered if Timothy’s acquaintances knew how two-faced he could be.

“I’m sorry if you thought I was fawning over him,” Jared answered cautiously, hanging his jacket in the closet and keeping a safe distance, “Josh is chairing the Red Cross’ Red and White Ball in a few months and he asked me if I had any pictures he could use.” He knew the defense was useless, his fate was sealed the moment Josh approached him. All he could do now was damage control and pray for the best.

“I saw the two of you chatting cozily on the veranda.” Timothy loosened his tie and began unbuttoning his shirt. “A little intimate for discussing your stupid photos, don’t you think? When he touched you, were you negotiating his payment in trade?” He arched his perfectly waxed eyebrow in challenge.

Working to keep his face neutrally blank, Jared focused on his hands working the buttons on his shirt. Normally he would back down, try to appease Timothy and lessen the inevitable, but, with what had happened in the kids’ room, for the first time Jared was feeling reckless and less than submissive. “I think it was less intimate than you and your assistant in the coat room ‘discussing your schedule for tomorrow’ and we all know how Matt earns his keep.”

It was no secret that Timothy was fucking his personal assistant, had been for nearly four years. There was a reason why a handsome man with a bachelor’s in Business Administration had settled for being a glorified secretary. He spread for his boss whenever the need arose and each year his Christmas bonus was equivalent to most people’s yearly pay.

“You cocksucking whore,” Timothy raged.

“See, now you’ve confused me with Cohen. Must be tough keeping all us fucks separate.” Jared froze, bent over removing his shoe, one leg crossed over the other and a steadying hand on the closet door jamb. He couldn’t believe what he’d just said. There was being bold and then there was being downright stupid. He never had a chance to right his posture, his head connecting hard with the door casing as Timothy barreled into him.

Jared curled into a ball, knees to his chest and arms over his head, as he tried to block the blows aimed at his torso and skull. He bit his lip until copper flooded his mouth in an attempt to keep his cries quelled. A well-aimed punch made it past his defenses and Jared’s head jerked back, colliding in a starburst of pain with the wall. His body relaxed as his vision greyed, his last conscious sight was Timothy fisting his open shirt in his hands and dragging him to their bed.

“Fucking bitch. Show you your place,” drifted to him on a sea of darkness before he was lost to all sight and sound.

* * *

 

Jared mind floated back to him in a haze of agony. His face, torso and limbs ached from the onslaught of Timothy’s beating, but it was the searing pain deep inside when he shifted slightly on the bed that bore testament to the true brutality of the previous night.  He could hear the shower running in the bathroom and feel the first weak rays of sunshine filtering through the gauzy curtains over the windows. It must be morning and Timothy was getting ready for work. The water stopped and Jared slowed his breathing, feigning sleep. After seven years together, he knew Timothy’s habits. He only needed to pretend for twenty minutes.

He laid still and counted the seconds to keep calm. When he’d counted 1245 Mississippis, he was surrounded by a fog of Obsession for Men and a kiss was pressed to his forehead. The smell dissipated and he was alone in the room. He listened as the footsteps retreated down the stairs, not daring to move in case Timothy came back for a forgotten item. He remained still until he heard the engine of the other man’s Audi fade in the distance.

Sitting up quickly, Jared groaned as pain shot through his body both inside and out. Through sheer determination he forced himself to his feet and dug through his drawers to find a loose pair of sweatpants and an old long-sleeved t-shirt, clothes designed to comfort a bruised body while concealing any evidence. He tugged on a battered pair of Chuck Taylor’s and limped his way down the stairs.

In the garage, the air still thick with the smell of exhaust from Timothy’s car, he shifted aside boxes of Christmas decorations, digging his way to the back wall of the area. Tucked in the corner, away from prying eyes, were three duffel bags filled to capacity. He pulled them from their hiding place and carried them to his Chevy Tahoe, tossing them in the back.  Hurrying in the house as much as his body would allow, he went to the closet in the spare bedroom and slid Timothy’s summer suits to one side, revealing a rectangular, hard-sided case and a flat portfolio case. Gritting his teeth against the ache caused by all his jarring movements, Jared carried the items to the Tahoe and set them inside next to the bags. Slamming the hatch shut, he went back inside.

Pulling his sore body up the stairs, he glanced at the Grandfather clock in the foyer. It was seven thirty, hours before Timothy was due home, but Jared wouldn’t put it past the other man to come home early so they could make up. He shuddered and let the thought propel him faster.

Even with their late night, the twins roused easily. Blinking sleeping green eyes at their father, faces scrunched in confusion, they silently obeyed when Jared tossed them warm clothes to change into. Fully dressed, beloved stuffed animals in hand, they followed him down the stairs and buckled themselves into the car. It wasn’t until an hour later with Atlanta forty miles behind them that one of the boys spoke for the first time.

“No more mean Father,” Teddy asked quietly, eyes focused on Jared in the rearview mirror.

Meeting his gaze, Jared shook his head. “No more mean Father. Just us.”

“Good,” Benji answered, arms crossing over his chest and a tight smile on his lips.

Jared headed west, stopping somewhere in Tennessee to trade the Tahoe for a late model Silverado crew cab, thanking the salesman when he helped him transfer their meager belongings to the pick-up truck. He drove until his body demanded rest, pulling into a cheap hotel near the interstate and rising early the next morning to continue their trip. It was mid-afternoon when the truck bounced down the rutted driveway to the two-story ranch home, wood siding in need of paint and shutters hanging loosely from their hinges. In the back seat, the boys leaned toward the middle and squinted at the rundown house through the front windshield.

“This our new house, Daddy?” Teddy scrutinized the broken lattice under the porch and the rusted weather vane creaking in the gentle breeze.

“Yep.” He turned in his seat to face them proper. “Don’t give me that look,” he scolded at their skeptical faces, “it just needs a little TLC and she’ll be a real beauty.”

“She gonna’ need a lotta’ love,” Benji pointed at the cobwebs clinging to the porch railing.

Rolling his eyes, Jared opened his door. “Get out guys. We’re home.” 

 


	2. Chapter 2

“Yes, momma, I ate the turnip greens you sent over.” Jensen’s nose scrunched up at the memory of the foul smelling vegetables his momma had made him take home the other night. He’d tried feeding them to Bronco, but even Chris’s dog’s tastes were too discerning for the bitter leaves. In the end he’d chucked them over the back fence, afraid they’d stink up the garbage can before he had a chance to make it to the dump.

“That’s my good boy,” she praised. “I’m pretty sure Austin threw his out. Oh, did I mention that the old McIntyre farm’s been bought?”

“No,” Jensen answered, maneuvering his car down Main Street. He waved at Misha, opening the General Store, and Sam, setting out a sign in front of the diner announcing it was Sandy’s birthday – _Sakes Alive, She’s Twenty-Five!!!!_  “Didn’t realize that Mr. McIntyre’s son had it up for sale.”

“Yeah, Shane’s busy with his family in Philadelphia and wasn’t able to keep it up. The tax collector was threatening to sell it for back taxes so Shane decided to beat ‘em to the punch. I haven’t been by but supposedly it’s a nice young man.”

Pulling into a spot in front of a simple single story building, Jensen shifted the car into park. Chuckling, he turned off the ignition. “Is there anything you don’t know about the goings on in this town? I swear, Momma, you know more than I do half the time.”

“I can’t help it if I’m a friendly person and people like to tell me things,” she defended, laughing, “it’s not like I pry, they just offer. You know since your property backs up to that farm, it would be neighborly of you to go over and introduce yourself.”

Jensen groaned and swiped a hand over his face. “Momma,” he whined, “none of your matchmaking.”

“Who’s matchmaking?” she asked innocently, “I merely suggested that you go over and welcome a new family to the community. Prove to people that I raised you to have some manners.”

Shaking his head in defeat, Jensen pushed the car door open and climbed out of the seat. “I’ll stop by on my way home from work. Will that make you happy?”

“You do a mother proud,” she mocked. “I better go. You’re father wants to try to make some flavor he read about in a magazine so we’re heading to the parlor early today. Come over this afternoon and you can be our guinea pig, I mean, taste tester.”

“As long as it’s not bacon flavor again,” Jensen shuddered at the memory of his one and only sample bite of his father’s last creation. 

“No, no more bacon ice cream. Your father promised after we ended up pitching out five gallons of that awful stuff.”

“Then I’ll come over after lunch with my fellow guinea pigs, I mean, taste testers,” he smirked.

“We’ll see you then, sweetheart. Be safe today,” she added her standard farewell for the days he worked. 

“Always, momma,” he answered in rote, the same as every other shift morning. Ending the call, he tucked his cell in his front pocket and rounded the car, fingers trailing over the glossy black paint on her fender. As he passed, he rapped his knuckles against the wooden sign set in the ground at the head of the parking space, marking it as his.

Reserved

Chief Deputy Jensen Ackles

He pushed open the glass door, emblazoned with the five pointed star that was the symbol of the Plains County Sheriff Department, and was greeted by heated air and the rich, inviting smell of brewing coffee. 

He walked past the enlarged portrait of his grandfather, Jeremiah Ackles, hanging in the front lobby labeled with a placard that proudly detailed his years of service as the sheriff of Plains County, Colorado. Jensen smiled at the image of the man he remembered fondly from his childhood. It was because of his grandfather that he decided to study Criminal Justice at Mercer University and now he was following in his footsteps, protecting the town he’d grown up in. 

Pushing past the waist high swinging gate, he crossed his arms and leaned back against the counter. “Well, if this doesn’t paint a fine picture for the town of their public servants.”

Deputy Chris Kane was sitting on the corner of the secretary’s desk, body angled back to see the screen of her computer. Danneel was seated in her customary rolling chair, studying the monitor with an intense look of concentration, while Deputy Milo Ventimiglia looked on from over her shoulder. They all startled at the sound of his voice, Milo snapping to attention and Chris merely shrugging. 

“Oh!” Danneel clicked a mouse button – to no doubt close whatever window they were viewing – and blushed to the roots of her red hair, “Good morning, Jensen. Coffee’s ready.”

Shoving away from the wall, Jensen peeled off his coat and tossed it at the coat rack in the corner then made his way to the coffee pot at the back of the bullpen, conveniently adjacent to the door of his office. There were perks to being Chief Deputy and having one of the only two offices in the building was among them. “You do know that Sheriff Jones will have your hides if he finds out you were surfing for porn on the county’s equipment, right?” he kidded, reveling in the crimson stain that crossed over Milo’s cheeks.

“Yep,” Chris answered without missing a beat, “That’s why I went out and bought the new iPhone. I can sit at my desk and look at cocks all day and nobody is the wiser.  Granted you have to blow them up to appreciate them properly, but, hey, it passes the time.” He stood and patted Milo on the shoulder as he made his way to his desk, chuckling as the boy turned a deeper shade of red.

Taking a sip of his coffee, black and strong like he liked it, Jensen smirked, “What does Steve think about you looking at other men’s dicks all day?”

Winking, Chris leaned forward and mock whispered, “Who do you thinks sends me the best links?” 

“Okay, y’all enough,” Danneel petted Milo’s arm consolingly, “I think you’ve sufficiently embarrassed the boy.” 

Laughing, Chris and Jensen tipped their heads in defeat and Milo blew out a grateful breath, plopping into the chair at the desk he shared with Mike.

“If you must know,” Danneel artfully changed the subject before they could think of another way to torment Milo, “we were pulling up the property appraiser archive to see if they’ve recorded who bought the old McIntyre farm yet.”

“Seems to be the talk of the town, “Jensen mused, perusing the selection of bagels on the counter, “Momma mentioned it when I talked to her this morning. She wants me to go by and welcome them to the town.”

“Of course, it’s a big deal when fresh meat arrives. This is a town of three thousand people, most of who were born here. The last outsider to move here was Chris, four years ago, and his secrets are old news by now.”

“That might be true, but, man, they sure riled people up when I arrived.” He settled back in his seat with a pleased smile and kicked his feet up on the desk, thick soled boots crinkling the papers left there by Tom the night before.

Deciding against a bagel in favor of a raspberry filled donut, Jensen rolled his eyes at his friend, “Just the long hair. Most folks thought you were a really beefy woman for the first week. Mmm,” he moaned, taking a bite of the jelly pastry, “Speaking of women, I almost forgot.  Let’s see it, Milo.” Jensen raised his mug to his lips again.

 “See what?” Milo looked from Jensen to Chris to Danneel then back to Jensen. He was the rookie and they took all forms of pleasure from mercilessly teasing him.

“The gift, that’s what. I’m sure it’s something romantic and sentimental, you Romeo you.” Jensen leaned against the doorjamb to his office with an expectant look on his face.

“I don’t…,” Milo looked dumbstruck.

“ _Sandy’s_ gift,” Jensen clarified. Milo stared at him, brows wrinkled in confusion and head shaking back and forth. “For her birthday,” Jensen elaborated slowly. Surely he hadn’t forgotten.

Milo’s confused expression morphed into wide-eyed terror. “Her birthday’s not today!”

The kid was so screwed. “It is according to the big sign Sam was tacking up in front of the diner when I pulled in.” 

“Aw hell, son,” Chris dropped his feet to the floor and sat up, “y’all haven’t been together that long for you to be forgetting important dates already.”

“Oh God!” Milo moaned, head thudding painfully on the desk. His close up examination of the blotter lasted a few seconds then he lifted his head and looked to them beseechingly. “What do I do? Has this every happened to you before?”

Danneel sniffed disdainfully, affronted on Sandy’s behalf. “Just once, and I dumped him. I figure if a guy can remember who won the 1968 Superbowl, he should be able to remember my birthday.”

Milo groaned and pressed the heels of his hands to his eyes.

“Helpful, Danneel,” Chris snarked. When Milo turned his gaze to him, he held up his hands in surrender. “Sorry, kiddo. Steve may joke he has my balls in a box behind the bar, I don’t need to give him a reason to consider it seriously.”

Hands covering his face, Milo splayed his fingers and peered through the slots at Jensen. “Don’t look at me,” Jensen licked powdered sugar from his fingers.

Milo dropped is hands to his desk. “Forgot, you don’t believe in love,” he mumbled miserably.

“Never said I didn’t believe in love,” Jensen muttered. “Guess I should go see what the sheriff left for me.”

“He all right?” Milo whispered.

Chris watched Jensen disappear into his office. “Better’n you,” Chris answered, tossing a phone book at Milo. “Make reservations at D’Angelo’s in Sioux River. Steve is buddies with the owner. I’ll have him call Tony and set up something to save your sorry ass.”

Relief washed over Milo’s face and he jumped up from his chair moving toward the older deputy. “Chris, you’re the best. “

Chris raised a staying hand, flipping his cell open with the other. “Not my type, dude. Save it for your girl.”

 

 

* * *

 

Jensen turned down the drought-dry driveway, tires running roughly over deep ruts and dust pluming up behind him like a rooster tail. He stopped near the front porch, the sandy cloud continuing forward to fully envelope the black vehicle. Grimacing at the wash his girl was going to need, he peered up at the two-story farm house and waited for the dust to settle. His momma had heard right, Shane McIntyre had not been able to keep his childhood home up and the building had fallen into disrepair. The once white house was now a mottled gray where rain and snow and sun had worn away the milky paint to reveal the weathered boards beneath. Faded burgundy shutters lay in the recently mowed grass, near the base of the porch, next to a stack of freshly purchased lattice work.  Dark black shingles contrasted sharply against the muted ash colored siding, clear signs that the roof had been recently replaced.

There wasn’t a car to be seen, but he decided since he was here it couldn’t hurt to see if anyone was home. He made his way up the wide steps to the porch and picked a path around miscellaneous tools and supplies to the front door. A new bench swing sat to the right, the chains still encased in brown paper and cushion wrapped in plastic, waiting to be hung, a baseball glove, ball tucked snugly in the woven pocket, and a football on the seat. 

_Huh, guy must have a kid._

He knocked on the door, peering through the large window that monopolized the upper half of the entrance. Empty boxes were piled in the hallway, crumpled paper spilling over the open flaps. It looked like a few of the interior doors had been removed and were leaning against the stairwell. Frowning, he knocked again and moved to the large picture window, slinking behind the swing to see in the glass. There wasn’t much in the way of furniture, just a new looking couch in the center of the room that faced an old television balanced precariously on a milk crate. A couple of Tonka dump trucks were parked in front of the couch, multicolored Legos filling the beds and peppering the scarred hardwoods floors around them.

Still not receiving an answer, Jensen shrugged and headed back to the car. He’d have to try another day, but at least he could truthfully tell his momma he’d tried when she undoubtedly called to ask about the new neighbor. One lie a day was enough. He frowned at the once picturesque farmhouse as he settled in the driver’s seat, wondering if the man knew the amount of work it needed when he purchased it. Shaking his head, he started the engine.

He sure as hell hoped so.

 

 

* * *

 

Jensen was very much a creature of habit and his days passed one after the other in a familiar routine. Friday started out much like all the ones before it. He talked to his mother on the way to work, disappointing her when he wasn’t able to fuel the town’s gossip machine with information on the new arrivals. He laughed as Chris squirmed uncomfortably at Milo’s continuous words of gratitude and dodged the younger man’s attempts for a hug.  Apparently Steve’s buddy had come through, not only saving Milo’s budding relationship with Sandy, but also, if the kid’s face was any indication, helping it move on to the next level. At noon, he ambled toward the diner to pick up the office’s lunch order, ducking quickly into Collins’ General Store for a box of laundry detergent knowing he’d forget by the end of his shift. 

“Hey Misha,” he greeted the man behind the counter, receiving a wave in return, and navigated around various displays of different wares to the aisle containing the cleaning supplies. He crouched down and examined the boxes of detergent; the brand he used had recently changed its packaging and he’d accidentally bought the wrong kind the last time. Unfortunately, it had been some tropical guava mango scented stuff and he’d spent the previous two months listening to Chris tell him how ‘purty’ he smelled. He kept meaning to buy a box of his regular unscented kind, but never remembered until he was pouring the fragrant powder in the washing machine. The only reason he was here now was he’d used the last of it and was down to one pair of clean underwear. Nothing like the promise of going commando in polyester blend pants to jog the memory.

Selecting the appropriate box, double checking it was unscented, he grunted when something knocked into him from the side. Falling on his ass, he reflexively grabbed the person’s legs to steady them when it appeared they were going to follow him down.

“Oh, God. I am so sorry. Are you okay? I’m such a klutz. I never watch where I’m going and I didn’t see you there,” the man babbled, hand extending down to help Jensen from the ground.

Wiping his hands together to rid them of dirt, Jensen stopped at the sound of the guy’s voice. It was familiar, but he couldn’t place it. His eyes travelled up a set of long, thin legs to an even skinnier torso finally landing on…

“Jared?”

“J-Jen-sen?” Jared gasped his name, eyes comically wide. He retracted his extended hand and wiped it nervously on his jeans. “Wh-what are you doing here?”

“I was born here,” Jensen answered, getting to his feet. It _was_ Jared. A little taller than he remembered and a whole lot thinner, but it was unmistakably Jared Padalecki. “What are you doing here?”

“I-I just moved into town,” Jared’s raised himself onto his tiptoes and peered over the shelves on both sides of him. Dropping back down, he sighed. “I thought you were in Chicago.”

Jensen hesitated for a minute. “Didn’t work out.”

“Oh. Sorry.” His eyes flicked to the security mirror in the corner. “Your boyfriend move here with you?”

“Boyfriend?” Jensen actually jerked back at the thought. 

“Sorry, your…partner?” Jared scanned the small store, eyes constantly moving like he was searching for someone.

“Jared, I don’t have a boyfriend or a partner. My last serious relationship was with you. What made you think I had someone?”

“I’d heard,” Jared, puzzled, focused on him for the first time and Jensen swore he saw a flash of realization followed swiftly by hurt flitter across the younger man’s features.

“Heard from whom?” Jensen was curious who Jared had asked about him.

“Doesn’t matter anymore. Apparently, I was misinformed.”  Jared smiled weakly, eyes going back to roving over the store’s patrons.

Jensen tracked Jared’s gaze around the store then blurted out the question he’d being dying to ask since looking up to see this ghost from his past. “Timothy with you?”

Jared’s face paled and his body tensed. His eyes tightened and he stood on his toes again to peer over the shelves. “No.”

“Oh,” Jensen was taken aback by the terse response.

Jared must have realized how his tone came across and sighed. Shoulders drooping, he picked at the hem of his shirt. “Didn’t work out,” he repeated Jensen’s earlier response. The bell over the front door tinkled and his gaze snapped to the mirror again to see who’d entered.

“So,” Jensen started, tossing about in his mind for a topic, “you bought the old McIntyre farm?”

“How did you…” Jared rolled his eyes, “Of, course, small town. “

“Yeah, not much goes on that the whole town doesn’t know about,” Jensen smiled. “I drove by the other day, but no one was home. Place sure needs a lot of work.”

“It’s getting there slowly, but surely. My dad was in construction so I get to use some of the things he taught me growing up.”

“That’s great. If you need any…” 

“Daddy!” A small boy, around five or six, came running down the aisle toward Jared. He stopped abruptly when he noticed Jensen standing there. “Sorry,” he mumbled quietly.

Even though he’d seen the evidence at the house the day before, Jensen’s mind was caught in a loop of _JaredhasakidJaredhasakid._

Jared set the basket he’d been holding down on the ground next to Jensen’s forgotten detergent and picked the boy up. “It’s okay,” Jared reassured. “Next time let’s try not to scream, okay?”

“Yes, Daddy,” the boy intoned. 

Jensen snapped out of his daze and examined the child. Kid was cute – wide mouth and expressive green eyes. His hair was perfectly styled, at complete odds with Jared’s tousled locks, but his clothes showed the telltale signs of hard played wear. Jared smiled at the boy, warm and fond, before nervously turning his attention back to Jensen.

“Jensen, I-I’d like you to meet my son, Benji. Benji, this is an old friend of mine, uh, Deputy, “Jared shot Jensen a quizzical look, continuing when he got confirmation of Jensen’s rank, “Ackles.”

“Nice to meet you, Benji.” Jensen held out his hand and was surprised when Benji shook it without prompting.

Gaze taking in Jensen’s uniform, Benji’s face brightened. “You’re a police officer?” At Jensen’s nod, Benji’s eyes went round in awe. “Cool,” he breathed.

“Yeah? Maybe your dad can bring you by the station sometime and I’ll show you around,” he smiled, completely smitten with the young boy.

 “You may not realize it, yet, but you’ve just made yourself a best friend.” Jared shook his head, chuckling. “So,” he tickled his son’s tummy, “what did you need that was so important?”

“Teddy!” Benji startled so hard his small body jolted in Jared’s arms. His eyes darted around the store in stunned shock like he couldn’t believe he’d forgotten. “I can’t find him.”

Jared placed a bracing hand on the wiggling boy’s back and shushed him softly. “Did you look everywhere?”

“Yes, Daddy,” Benji’s voice was pitching higher and higher, a hysterical edge creeping in, “I looked. He’s gone!”

“You look in the books?” Jared jerked his head in the direction of the next aisle over.

Benji stretched his little body, Jared moving onto his toes to help the boy see over the items on the top shelf, and renewed his squirming. “There he is!”

Smiling, indulgently, Jared set the boy on his feet and watched him scamper down the aisle. Jensen opened his mouth to comment on how good Jared was with his son when his radio crackled to life. 

“Ackles?” A gruff voice filtered through the static.

Tugging the hand-held radio free of his belt, Jensen shot Jared an apologetic look. “This is Ackles.”

“Sheriff says forget lunch. Mr. O’Leary’s cows are out again and backing up traffic. He wants us to drive out there.”

“10-4,” Jensen rolled his eyes to the ceiling, “Headed back now.” Clipping the radio back on, he looked over at Jared. “Listen, I gotta’ go,” he tilted his head toward the door. “I’ll, um, I guess I’ll see you around.”

“Yeah,” Jared answered, head nodding, “Uh, good luck catching the cows.”

“Thanks,” he groaned, starting for the door. He stopped a few steps away, “It was nice seeing you again, Jared.”

“You too, Jensen.”

Nodding once, he exited the general store, detergent-less, to save the good people of Plains County from wayward cows.


	3. Interlude - Nothing Comes From Nothing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jensen meets Jared for the first time.

Jensen and Chris had met while attending Mercer both studying criminal justice with the hopes of making a difference. They sat next to each other during their first class on the first day and became fast friends.  After graduation they both accepted positions on the Savannah Police Department, working a beat in the historic district. They’d been on the force for almost two years when they got a call about a break-in with vandalism at one of the well-known college apartment complexes. 

“I swear to God, Jen, if this is another hazing stunt gone wrong I’m gonna rip those fraternity peckerheads a new one,” Chris grumbled ascending the stairs to apartment 4D, the scene of the reported crime.

“Come on,” Jensen pushed his shoulder good-naturedly, “that one call with the naked guy tied to a chair with peanut butter spread on his balls was pretty good.”

“For his dog,” Chris shoved back, working hard to contain his smile. “God, the things we see during Pledge Week.”

Catching himself up against the wall, Jensen laughed. “Hey, man’s best friend is his dog. Who of us hasn’t needed a helping tongue – I mean, hand – from a friend?”

“You’re twisted, Ackles,” Chris chuckled, rolling his eyes, “And people think I’m the perverted one.”

“That’s because I’m sweet and innocent.”  Batting his eyelashes, he stepped onto the fourth floor landing and pointed down the hall. “It’s down that way.”

“Keep telling yourself that,” Chris rolled his eyes and headed in the direction Jensen indicated, stopping in front of a white door with the word WHORE written across it in black spray paint. “Something tells me this is it.”

“Figure that out there by yourself, Sherlock?” Jensen snarked, hand lifting to knock on the door.

“Suck my dick, Watson.”

The scraping of locks turning had them slipping on the professional masks they wore when dealing with the public just in time for the door to swing open.  A tall man stood in the doorway, a spoon hanging from his mouth and a pint of Ben & Jerry’s cradled to his chest. Pulling the spoon out, dragging it down across his bottom lip to scrape all the ice cream from the inverted bowl, the guy gave them an embarrassed smile.

“Hey,” he mumbled around the mouthful of ice cream, tilting his head back slightly to keep it in his mouth, “come in.” He stepped back to allow them to enter.

Exchanging a sidelong glance with Chris, Jensen led them into the apartment. “I’m Officer Ackles and this is my partner, Officer Kane. We received a call from a Mr. Padalecki saying that you had a break-in and some vandalism. Is the front door the only thing that was damaged?” Jensen looked around the living room and didn’t see any evidence that anything inside the apartment was damaged.

“Uh, no,” the guy said, setting the container of ice cream down, “and it’s Jared. The majority of it is this way.”

He motioned for them to follow and guided them down a short hallway to an open door. Reaching in, Jared flicked on the light and held out his arm in invitation. The room was in shambles. The sheets had been stripped from the bed and lay shredded on the floor. The mattress was gutted, tufts of stuffing poking out through the ripped cover. Pictures had been pulled from the walls, their frames bent and glass broken. The shattered remains of keepsakes littered the floor while the once pale blue walls sported the same spray painted slanders as the front door. Turning away from the three foot high COCKSUCKER on the wall over the bed, Jensen pulled a pad from his pocket.

“Your room?” He clicked his pen and started making notes.

“Yeah. I came home from school and found it like,” Jared flapped a massive hand to encompass the mess, “this.”

“Did you touch anything?” Chris walked around the room, glass crunching under his boots, to examine the mattress closer.

“Swept some of the glass to the side to make a path to the dresser, opened the middle and bottom drawers. I got drenched on the way home and honestly didn’t expect you guys for a while. Didn’t feel like freezing my nuts off waiting so I changed clothes.” He waved a hand at his body to show his t-shirt and lounge pants. Given the invitation, Jensen allowed himself an appraising look. Jared was definitely a tall drink of water and the way his clothes hung hinted at a strong, slender body. He had slanted hazel eyes that seemed to change when the light reflected off them at different angles and dimples that subtly winked at Jensen each time he talked.  Jensen did a double take when he noticed Jared’s footwear. He was wearing giant fuzzy moose slippers.

“I see,” Jensen made another note and moved to the broken pictures, “I guess that explains the BJ.”

“E-excuse me?” Jared flushed.

Jensen turned around abruptly, realizing what he’d said. “B and J,” he clarified, “Ben and Jerry’s,” he added quickly.

“Oh, yeah,” Jared coughed nervously, “sweet tooth. Gets worse when I’m stressed.”

“So,” Chris segued, trying to steer the conversation back from a place that could possibly get both him and Jensen reprimanded, “do you have any idea why someone would do this?”

“I’m pretty sure it was my roommate’s ex-girlfriend.” Jared kicked the torn sheets with the antler of his slipper.

Crouching down, Jensen wasn’t listening to Chris’ questioning, too focused on the now marred picture on the ground. It was an enlarged photograph of the lighthouse on Tybee Island against the backdrop of a cloud filled sky. “This shot is amazing.”

“Thanks,” Jared replied warmly.

Chris cleared his throat forcing Jensen’s mind back to the investigation. “Anyway, roommate’s girlfriend?” He shot Jensen a curious look.

“Yeah. I don’t think she took the break-up as well as he thought.”

“Why do you feel that she’s responsible? If she was upset over their break-up then wouldn’t she focus her attention on his room?” Chris nodded to the SLUT on the back of the door.

“The reason Chad gave her was he’d realized he liked men. I guess it was his way of letting her down easy,” Jared shook his head in disbelief.

“I still don’t see what that has to do with your room being ransacked,” Jensen looked over at the younger man.

Jared rubbed a hand over the back of his neck. “He mighta, sorta told Janie that I was the one that opened his eyes to the ‘joys of buttsex’,” he smiled sheepishly, fingers making air quotes.

“Did you?” Jensen was suddenly, insanely curious about the answer. His entire focus was on the younger man even though he kept his eyes focused on the pad in his hand – the pad he’d been writing random words on for the last few minutes. 

“Me? With Chad?” Jared laughed heartily, head tipping back as the sound bubbled up his throat. Jensen glanced up and stood mesmerized by the sight of Jared’s exposed neck and the sound of his unrestrained happiness. He managed to pry his eyes away before Jared noticed. “Dude’s my best friend, but I wouldn’t touch Chad with someone else’s…” he trailed off, wide eyed and blushing.

“I still don’t see what makes you think this Janie is responsible. Isn’t it just as likely that this was done by someone you’ve dumped?” Chris took out a small digital camera and began taking pictures of the destruction.

“Gotta _have_ someone to dump them,” Jared mumbled, “I think when you see Chad’s room, you’ll understand.” 

Jensen and Chris followed Jared to Chad’s room. His things seemed to have fared better than Jared’s, but Jensen mainly contributed that to the piles of dirty clothes on the floor that cushioned any falling objects. The mattress was sliced just like Jared’s except here you could clearly see that the slashes formed the name ‘Janie’.  On an undamaged patch of fabric a note was written in Sharpie. 

**Think of me when you’re fucking your cumslut.**

Taking a picture, Chris lowered the camera. “That’s a lot of anger. It should make pressing charges easy, though.”

“Oh,” Jared sounded surprised, “I don’t want to press charges.”

“You don’t?” Jensen’s hand hovered over the pad where he’d been copying the note on the mattress.

“No,” Jared replied like it should be obvious. When the two officers didn’t seem to get it, he sighed. “I don’t want Janie to get in trouble. She’s pissed and has a right to be. Chad treated her pretty bad. We have renter’s insurance to pay for the damages.”

“And they won’t process the claim without a police report,” Jensen finished for him.

“Right,” Jared smiled wide and bright.

And just like that, staring into the blinding force that was Jared’s smile, Jensen knew he was done for.

 

After leaving that night, Jensen found himself making excuses to drop by Jared’s apartment – checking that the guys were okay, making sure that the insurance had all the information they needed.  Unfortunately, each time he stopped by Jared wasn’t home. Jensen was frustrated, but determined that sooner or later luck had to be on his side. It was on his fifth attempt that things came to a head. 

The door was answered by Chad, who ironically always seemed to be home when Jensen came by, bare-chested with a fleece blanket wrapped around his waist, the ends clutched tightly in his fist. His cheeks were rosy and his blonde hair was tousled. 

“Why am I not surprised?” Chad growled slightly.

“Uh, hey, I wanted to make sure you guys weren’t having any more problems with Janie?” Jensen blushed under Chad’s skeptical gaze. 

“Chad? Come back!” Looking over Chad’s shoulder, Jensen saw a leggy brunette leaning against the back of the couch. She had on a men’s button up shirt, unbuttoned to her naval and revealing her deeply tanned stomach.

“Just a minute, babe,” Chad called over his shoulder. Turning his attention back to Jensen, his face grew serious. “Look, dude, I get that you’re obsessed with my boy and til now it’s been kinda cute in a stalkerish sorta way. But your crush is cockblocking me,” he jerked his head back in the direction of the scantily clad co-ed, “and that ain’t gonna happen. Jared works weekends at The Plank down on River Street. It’s one of those pirate themed places that the tourists love so much. Why don’t you do us both a favor and just go ask his ass out? Lord knows the boy needs to get laid.” With that Chad stepped back and slammed the newly painted door in Jensen’s face.

 

 

* * *

 

River Street was only a few blocks from Jared and Chad’s apartment and Jensen allowed himself to be absorbed in the crowd that descended on Savannah’s historic district nightly in search of one of the many watering holes that made the town famous. It took him a few minutes to find The Plank, as he usually avoiding the more tourist tailored bars in favor of hole-in-the-wall haunts that only the locals knew and patronized. 

He chuckled at the six foot wooden pirate standing sentinel outside the front door and pushed his way into the dimly lit tavern. Shouldering his way past the throngs of people, he finally spotted Jared behind the bar and his steps stuttered to a stop. 

Jared was dressed like the other bartender in fitted black pants and a satin black button up shirt, undone enough to reveal tanned skin and a muscular chest. A black bandana was tied around his head and black kohl rimmed his eyes. The billowy sleeves of his shirt were rolled up to the elbow exposing strong forearms and slender wrists adorned with thick black leather cuffs. When the younger man leaned over the bar and tilted his head to hear a customer’s order better, a gold stud glinted from the lobe of his right ear. Jensen tried to reconcile the innocent man he’d met, dressed adorably in flannel pajamas and moose slippers, with the epitome of sex serving drinks behind the bar.  Surreptitiously he adjusted his suddenly too tight jeans and made his way to the bar, noticing the number of patrons vying for Jared’s attention.  

He waited patiently until Jared moved to his end of the bar to get a Heineken for one of the waitresses. When he stepped back to the bar, hands deftly removing the bottle cap with a practiced twist of the opener, Jared’s eyes finally fell to Jensen.

“Hey,” he grinned, “give me a sec. I’ll be right back.” Jared handed the bottle to the waitress with a wink. Wiping his hands on the black apron around his waist, he headed back to Jensen.

“Officer Ackles,” he beamed. Taking in Jensen’s casual appearance, he quirked an eyebrow, “You’re not here in an official capacity, are you?”

“Nope, and it’s just Jensen tonight,” he smirked, leaning on the bar.

“Great,” Jared held a finger out to another customer rivaling for his attention, “Wet your whistle?”

“Yeah, I’ll take one of these,” Jensen pointed at a laminated card sitting in a holder on the bar advertising The Plank’s signature drink, Davy Jones’ Locker. He’d been fiddling with the card while waiting for Jared to notice him and was intrigued by the pub’s claims that it was the most potent drink in Savannah.

“That’s not for landlubbers,” Jared warned with a teasing smile, dimples indenting his cheeks deeply, “You sure you’re up for it?”

Snorting, Jensen rolled his eyes, “Just make the damn drink, Jack Sparrow.”

Jared smiled mischievously and spun around. “We have someone going down to the locker!” Jared screamed above the music and conversations, ringing a bell bolted behind the bar.

The entire bar chorused back, “Dead men tell no tales!” 

Jensen’s cheeks burned in embarrassment, it was the alcoholic’s version of having the wait staff sing Happy Birthday to you in a restaurant. He glared at Jared who only laughed, pulling bottles off the back shelf. Jensen eyes widened as he watched as the young bartender poured gin then rum then vodka in a tall glass. Setting the bottles back on the shelf, he grabbed a square bottle of green liquid from under the bar and added it to the mix. Finally, he snatched a brown jug, marked with three Xs, from a shelf where it sat by itself in a place of honor, people whooping as the clear liquid within was added to the glass. Jensen glanced down at the plastic encased card to see what the last ingredient had been only to find it listed as ‘mermaid tears’. Shaking his head at the ridiculousness, he wondered if the tourists really fell for this kitschy crap. 

Jared picked up a treasure chest, about the size of an old time lunchbox, and Jensen’s drink then headed back to the off duty cop. Setting the chest on the bar, drink still in hand, he opened the lid.

“Keys, Officer Ackles.”

“What?” Jensen frowned, peering into the chest to see several sets of keys gathered at the bottom. “Sorry, Jared. I’m not into key parties.”

Jared chuckled, jostling the chest to make the keys rattle. “Sorry, Officer. It’s house policy for anyone ordering the DJL that you hand over your keys. This way we can make sure you’re safe to drive when you leave. No keys, no drink.” Jared moved his hand so the drink was hidden behind his back.

“How community minded of you,” Jensen dug into his pocket and tossed his keys in the chest. He didn’t plan on getting drunk, but it gave him an excuse to talk to Jared again so he could retrieve his keys.

“More like legally minded,” Jared winked, setting the drink on the bar. 

Jensen sniffed at the fruity smelling drink and took a tentative sip. The liquor went down easily, the sweetness negating the harsh burn of the alcohol. 

“Good?” Jared held the closed treasure chest under one arm, the bottom edge propped on his hip.

Smiling in surprise, he took a large gulp. “Yeah. Not bad for a girl drink.”

“Careful, tiger. That girl drink packs a delayed punch. We’ll be scooping you up off the floor.” Jared smiled and returned the chest to its place under the bar, moving away to help the other customers.

Jensen lost track of time, the first drink was quickly followed by a second and third. Jared came over as often as possible to check on him and chat when he had a spare minute – which wasn’t often. He was popular eye candy for both sexes, the women hoisting their boobs up on the bar for easier viewing and the men shooting lecherous glances. He had a vague notion that the alcohol was affecting him when his trip to the restroom after his second drink was markedly more staggering than the one after his first. He tried to order a fourth, but Jared shook his head and pushed a large glass of water in his direction. Shrugging, too mellow to really care, Jensen picked up the glass and drank the cool liquid.

As the night wore on, the crowd thinned considerably, allowing Jared more time to talk. Jensen learned that Jared worked at The Plank on Friday and Saturday nights and one of the old time photo studios Monday through Thursday. He was a junior at the Savannah College of Art and Design and, like Jensen, was the middle child with an older brother and younger sister. He groaned when Jared’s bartending partner, Kevin, yelled out for last call, not ready for the night to be over.

Pointing at the treasure chest beneath the bar, Jensen snapped his fingers. “Keys.”  He hefted up from the stool and staggered when his brain decided to let his legs work without any direction. Grabbing the edge of the bar for support, he blinked his eyes hard trying to clear the dizziness from his vision.

“Uh-uh, Officer,” Jared waved his finger back and forth. “You’re toasted. You got someone you want me to call or should I get you a cab?”

“J’rd,” he slurred, his voice pitching into a whine as he dropped back on the stool.

“No can do. I’d be heartbroken if something happened to you,” that dimpled smile was back, dazzling Jensen with its brilliance, “So what will it be, a friend or a cab?”

Sighing, Jensen tugged his cell phone from his pocket, fumbling with it twice before he got it free, and handed it over to the younger man. “Crishun,” he flapped his hand at the phone, “he’ll come,” he nodded for emphasis.

“Crishun,” Jared repeated, thumbing through the contacts until he found ‘Christian’, “You mean Christian?”

“Crishun,” Jensen nodded his head once sharply in agreement. 

Jared hit the button to call Jensen’s friend, hoping the man didn’t mind being woken up at three in the morning. Moving to the entrance to lock the door to keep any new customers out, Jared listened to the phone ring. When he was certain this Christian’s voicemail was going to pick up, the phone was answered by a gruff voice.

“ ‘lo.”

“Hey, is this Christian?” Jared gathered a few empty glasses from the tables dotting the establishment and carried them to the bar.

“Yeah. Who the fuck is this?”

“This is Jared down at The Plank.  Jensen,” even though Jared hadn’t called the other man by his first name, opting instead to refer to his as ‘Officer’ all night, he’d heard Jensen say it earlier, “is here and needs a ride home. He said I should call you.” Jared moved to the wall and flipped a switch that cut the power to the neon signs that hung on the walls. 

There were some growled mumbles that sounded like ‘fucking idiot’ and the rustling of fabric. “Fuck. Okay. I’m getting up.” Then something seemed to occur to the other man. “Jared?” The voice was questioning, like Christian was trying to place him.

“Yeah?” Jared went back to the door and let out the few straggling customers, relocking the door once he ushered them outside. Jensen was the only remaining patron and he was leaning heavily on the bar, eyelids drooping.

“Pada-something, right?”

“Padalecki,” Jared offered, wiping down the bar with a rag. He gently touched Jensen’s arm, motioning for the older man to move back so he could clean the area in front of him.

There was more grumbling then Jared heard the jingling of keys. “I’ll be there in fifteen minutes. Can you meet me out front at like three-thirty so I can get the moron?”

“Yeah, no problem. I’ve got a few more things to finish up anyway. See you then.”  Jared set the phone next to his own on the shelf behind the bar, “Christian will be here in a little bit so you’re stuck with me for a few more minutes.”

When he didn’t get a response he looked over to see Jensen dozing, head nestled on his folded arms. Smiling fondly, Jared quickly took care of this end of the night duties.

Gathering his and Jensen’s things, he came up behind Jensen, patting him gently on the back. “Come on, Officer. Up you go. Let’s get you outside so your friend can come collect you.” He waved at Kevin when he called a good night on his way out.

“Crishun awsum,” Jensen stumbled into Jared’s chest, deeply inhaling the scent of sweat and alcohol with a hint of something more underneath, “He m’bes frien.” Somewhere in his hazy mind, Jensen knew that his words were missing consonants, losing them somewhere on the path from his brain to his mouth, but Jared seemed to understand.

“I’m glad. Friends are important and Christian must be a great one.” He steadied Jensen with an arm around his waist. He guided the inebriated man to the door, hitting the switch for the lights and inserting the key in the lock. Pulling the door closed, he twisted the key hearing the slide of the deadbolt engaging. “Here we go,” he cooed, leaning Jensen against the wall.

Jensen settled his head in the crook of Jared’s neck, breathing deep, “Smell g’d,” he hummed. “Should go out, J’rd,” he tipped his head back until it met the wall, smacking his numb lips, “Chad says you need laid.” The words came out lazily and Jensen sighed, eyes sliding closed.

“Did he, now?” Jared chuckled, “Sounds like something Chad would say. When did you talk to him?” He glanced at his watch. Christian should be here any minute.

“Been by,” Jensen mumbled, “Ne’er home, J’rd. Can’t go out if you’re ne’er home.” Jensen slid down the wall, body too heavy for his shaky knees. Large, warm hands cupped his hips and braced him. 

Jared started to answer when headlights bathed them in a soft glow. An older model pick-up truck pulled up to the curb and a stocky man climbed out of the cab. “Can he walk?”

“Officer Kane?” Jared hadn’t placed the man’s voice on the phone, but it made sense that Jensen would call his partner. It also explained why Christian knew his last name.

“In the flesh. Help me get him loaded, would ya’?” Christian moved to Jensen’s side, dragging the drunk man’s arm over his shoulders. 

“Of course.” Jared mimicked Christian’s position and together they got Jensen in the passenger seat of the truck. Jared reached across Jensen and buckled the seatbelt. He startled when a wet kiss was pressed to his cheek. 

“Date?” Jensen mumbled, his glazed eyes sleepy and hopeful.

“Sure, Jensen. You get some sleep, okay?” Jared patted his leg and shut the door carefully.

Christian leaned against the fender, arms folded over his chest and ankles crossed. When Jared closed the door, he pushed off. “Thanks for staying with him. You’re a good guy.”

“Sure,” Jared stared through the passenger window at the man. Jensen had his eyes closed and mouth open, snoring softly on each exhale. “Hey, you mind doing me a favor?” Jared dug his wallet out of his pocket.

“Depends?” 

Pulling a receipt from the leather billfold, Jared snagged the pen from his shirt pocket. “Give this to Jensen.” He placed the scrap of paper on the passenger window and scribbled a quick note.

Regarding Jared skeptically, Christian deliberated for a minute before nodding. “Yeah. I can do that.” There was a thud and they both looked to see Jensen had slumped over, his face pressed against the glass. “I’d better get him home. Night, Jared.”

“Night, Christian,” Jared patted the hood of the truck twice and stepped back. He waited for the truck to pull away before he headed to the stairs that led to the Bay Street. 

 

 

* * *

 

 

Jensen woke up the next morning, head pounding out a throbbing bass and mouth filled with cotton. He hadn’t been this hung over since the Kappa Sig’s graduation party. God, those drinks needed to come with a warning from the Surgeon General. His stomach roiled dangerously and he jerked up, barely making it to the bathroom in time. 

Slumped back against the tub, head lolled back on the edge, Jensen dug through his clouded memories of last night. There was a half-naked guy and pirates? A treasure chest and Jared? Oh, God. Jared. Banging his head against the porcelain, groaning as it shot pain through his aching head, he tried to remember what he said to the gorgeous bartender. Thinking actually hurt – he couldn’t even recall how he’d gotten home – and Jensen gave up after a few minutes. Sighing, he got to his feet and rinsed his mouth, then brushed his teeth. Stumbling to the kitchen, he swallowed two pain killers and chugged a bottle of water. Making his way back to the couch, he dropped down and flung an arm over his eyes. 

His phone vibrated on the coffee table, dancing across the wooden surface, and Jensen slapped his hand out. Lifting it up, he read the text message from Christian.

**U owe me, asshole.**

Well, that explained how he got home. His phone vibrated again and he read Christian’s next message.

**Read the note.**

Note? Turning his head to the coffee table, he reached over and picked up a folded rectangle of paper tucked under his keys. It was a receipt for Twizzlers and Mountain Dew from a gas station on Bay Street. Wrinkling his forehead, he flipped it over to find something scrawled on the back. 

_Officer,_

_If you wake up alive and want to make good on your offer, give me a call._

_Jared_

There was no number. He turned the slip of paper over, but the only thing there was the digital itemization of Jared’s purchase.  How was he supposed to call Jared if he didn’t have his number? Dropping his hands to his stomach, they connected with the hard plastic of his phone. Raising his eyebrows, he picked up the device and scrolled through his contacts. In the list between Home and Joseph was Jared. 

Smiling despite the drumbeat in his head, Jensen lurched up. Rushing to the bathroom, Jensen thought Jared might be worth the hangover.

 


	4. Chapter 4

“So, Jared, huh?” Chris raised his beer at the bartender, showing two fingers with the other hand.

Jensen finished the last swallow in his bottle and set it down heavily on the bar. “Yep,” he answered, popping his lips on the last letter.

“Wow,” Chris was a little stunned. The last time he’d seen Jared was…”Six years. He look good?”

“Oh yeah,” Jensen chuckled the words, leaning against the bar on his crossed arms. “A little skinny, but…” he whistled to emphasize his point.

“What about Timothy? I thought they hooked up after you left?” Chris nodded his thanks to Joseph when two bottles appeared before them, the empties disappearing with practiced quickness.

“Said it didn’t work out,” Jensen shrugged. Lifting the new bottle, he paused just before the mouth touched his lips. “Never knew what Jared saw in that asshole to begin with.”

“Just because you hated the arrogant bastard doesn’t mean he didn’t have _any_ redeeming qualities.”

Jensen snorted. “I wouldn’t put any money on that one.” Jensen had met Timothy Olyphant during his freshman year of college when they were pledging different fraternities. Animosity only grew as they competed fiercely over the next four years in everything from pick-up games of basketball to dates. Ironically enough, it was Jensen that first introduced Jared to Timothy.

“And he’s got a kid?” Chris pulled Jensen from memories of the past back to their present conversation.

“Who’s got a kid?” Steve emerged from the back room, a plastic crate filled with clean pilsner glasses in his hands. They rattled when he set them on the bar, jiggling precariously on their rims. 

“Hmmm,” Chris hummed, mind preoccupied with the way Steve’s biceps were stretching the fabric of his t-shirt. 

“Kid? Who’s got one?” Steve laughed knowingly, pulling the glasses from the crate and threading their bottoms on the hanging rack. 

“Oh,” Chris startled and looked over at Jensen’s barely suppressed smirk. “Jared.”

“Jared?” Steve’s brow furrowed in confusion. “Jared?” Seeing Jensen’s raised eyebrows as he waited for him to catch on, it clicked. “Jared! Like, ex-boyfriend from Savannah, Jared?”

“Got it in one.” Jensen pointed at the bar owner with the neck of his bottle.

“Wasn’t he with some dick that you despised?” Steve waved at a regular who called out to him on the way to a table in the back.

“Not anymore. He apparently came to his senses and now lives here with his son,” Jensen drained the last of beer, shaking his head when Joseph motioned toward it, asking silently if he wanted another.

“You know, I don’t think I ever heard why you two split. I mean you’ve always said that it was amicable and all, but never what was the actual cause.” Steve set the crate on the floor and leaned his elbows against the bar.

Jensen picked at the foil label on his beer bottle, the corner of his mouth tugging up in a smirk. “Life, mainly. We were together about a year and a half and it was good, really good. The only thing we didn’t completely agree on, funny enough, was kids. Jared wanted to start a family after graduation and I wasn’t ready to settle down yet. When I got offered that job in Chicago,” his mouth twisted in a frown, “Jared still had a semester left in school and some big magazine was courtin’ him with basically the opportunity of a lifetime. Neither of us wanted to give up on our dream, but didn’t want the other to either,” he shrugged, “We talked about it and decided that our lives were headed down different paths.”

“So y’all just went your separate ways?” Joseph had drifted back over to the group, the other customers sufficiently watered and content.

“Pretty much,” Jensen stuffed the shredded label into the empty bottle, dragging his thumbnail through the tacky adhesive left behind.

“That’s kinda…” Joseph stared at a neon sign, trying to think of the right word.

“Stupid?” Steve offered.

“Pathetic?” Chris volunteered.

“Sad,” Joseph finally settled on.

Jensen snorted, “Not as sad as you pining over Penn for the last three years and never making a move.”

“I’m working up to it,” Joseph defended, grabbing Jensen’s bottle and tossing it in the trash. He really hoped that one day Penn would wake up and realize Joseph wanted more than friendship from him.

“Dude, sloths mate faster than this,” Chris laughed, tapping his empty bottle on the bar.

“Actually, sloth mating, from foreplay to finish, takes an average of five seconds,” Joseph informed them with a smug look on his face.

Jensen looked over at the young man, face blank with shock, “I,” his mouth opened and closed a few times as he grasped for something to say, “I don’t even want to know how you know that.”

“Animal Planet. I work nights and daytime TV sucks,” he tilted his head, acknowledging one of the barflies wanting a refill. Snatching a bottle of bourbon off the shelf, he made his way to the other end of the bar.

Watching him walk away, Chris shook his head, “Weird little dude.”

“Anyway, back to you and Jared. You gonna try to rekindle the old flame?” Steve asked, twisting off the cap to a fresh beer and exchanging it for Chris’ empty one.

“Not sure,” Jensen got up from the stool and, pulling his wallet out of his back pocket, threw a handful of bills on the bar. “We’ve both moved on. Sometimes it’s smartest to let the past stay in the past. I gotta go, it’s getting late.” 

Chris slapped Jensen on the shoulder, squeezing the muscle in sympathy. “No one’s ever accused you of being smart, Jenny boy. Just see what happens.”

 

* * *

 

 

Jensen sat in his car parked in front of the dilapidated farm house. Newly painted shutters were leaning up against the side of the house drying, the shiny black enamel paint glistening in the late day sun. He sighed and looked over at the stuffed plush riding shotgun regarding him with glass beetle black eyes. 

God he hated it when Chris was right.

Before yesterday the last time Jensen saw Jared it had been bittersweet. They’d spent most of the day loading Jensen’s things into the back of a U-Haul truck, slowly emptying his one bedroom apartment. He turned his key in to his landlord, the plan for him to stay a Jared’s for the night. An awkward tension fell between them, something that hadn’t happened in almost eighteen months together. It was oppressive and suffocating and definitely not the way Jensen wanted to spend his last night with his soon to be ex-boyfriend. He’d looked over at the taller man and could see his own emotions reflected in Jared’s ever changing eyes.

_“I love you, Jensen. My not going with you has nothing to do with that.”_

_“I love you too, Jared, and I know. Just like me going doesn’t either.”_

_“Can we have one last night? Something to remember?”_

Jensen hadn’t even bothered to answer, just shoved Jared into the nearest wall. It was frantic and electric, the all-encompassing want that was always there bolstered by an aching _need_ tinged in the desperation to not be forgotten. There were no good-byes, only remember me’s – mouths and fingers leaving evidence of _them_ in purples and blacks on smooth skin. The pace was fast and punishing, foil crinkled, groans exchanged and climaxes screamed to the ceiling in unison, burning out the fear and loss. 

Jensen had woken up in the waning hours of the night spooned behind Jared’s warm body. He’d risen up on his elbow, taking in the form before him, eyes memorizing the dips and curves his hands knew so well. The sheet was pooled low on Jared’s hips, muscles and skin glowing in the silver moonlight filtering through the Goodwill curtains Jared’d hung when he moved in. He kissed across Jared’s shoulders, small presses of lips to skin, and rubbed feather light circles on Jared’s stomach with his fingertips. Jared hummed at the caresses and rolled back into his lover, body tingling where he was being touched. 

Jensen dragged his mouth up Jared’s neck to his ear, breath panting warm against the sensitive flesh. “I love you.” His hand ghosted over Jared’s hip, sliding down the back of his thigh to shift it up and forward, allowing his hardened member to ride the crease of Jared’s ass. Still open and slick from earlier, Jared willingly accepted Jensen, both groaning at the easy slide. They moved in a slow, sensual roll, fingers entwined and breaths gasped. There was no rush to completion, only the never-ending now. It was poignant and heartbreaking, the physical manifestation of the good-bye they’d refused to voice and an affirmation of the love they’d shared. When they reached their peaks, it was with gasps that sounded of their lover’s names. If the wildness of earlier burned out the feelings threatening to pull them under, this gentleness was the soothing salve. Jensen’d had numerous lovers, some talented and enthusiastic in bed, but nothing that came before or after that last time with Jared had ever compared.

Jensen cleared his throat and shifted in his seat, hand tugging on the fly of his jeans to adjust the constricting fabric over his half-hard interest. Snatching the plush toy from the seat, he blew out a long breath, adjusted his hat and shoved open the car door.

 

* * *

 

 

Jared jauntily made his way down the stairs, hair wet from his shower dripping cold water down his back. He stopped at the bottom, peals of laughter drifting down from the twins’ shared room.

“Work on cleaning up, guys. I’m going to start dinner,” he called to his sons, slipping a t-shirt over his head. He’d just shoved an arm in the sleeve when there was a knock. Moving quickly to the wall beside the door, he froze, heart thundering in his chest and breaths coming in short, sharp bursts. Another knock freed his locked muscles and he leaned forward to peer out the glass window in the door. Sighing, he threaded his other arm into the shirt and, pulling the fabric down his body, opened the front door.

“Jensen?” Jared shifted nervously, trying to adjust the thin cotton shirt over his body.

“Uh, Jared,” Jensen’s eyes were drawn like a magnet to the brief glimpse of skin. He pulled them away, blinking quickly, and smiled up at Jared only to have it fall into a frown. In the natural light, Jensen could make out a faint yellowish, green tinge on Jared’s jaw that he’d missed in the fluorescent glare of the General Store – a bruise, somewhere between a week and ten days old from the looks of it. Squinting, he tilted his head slightly to the side and noticed a similar place on Jared’s opposite temple. Realizing his examination had created an awkward pause, Jensen rubbed a self-conscious hand over the back of his neck and forced his lips into a smile. “Hey.” 

“Uh, hey,” Jared looked down at the toy dangling from Jensen’s hand, “you, um, just out taking your bear for a ride?”

“What?” Jensen followed Jared’s gaze to the stuffed bear, “Oh, no. I, um, brought it for Benji.”

“For Benji?”  Jared’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “O-kay. Come on in.” He stepped back, opening the door wider, and motioned for Jensen to enter.

“Well, yeah. He was upset over losing the one yesterday in the store and I thought it might be good for him to have a spare.” Jensen grimaced at the lame excuse, but it was the only reason he could come up with to stop by. Plus, the kid had made an impression on him. 

“Losing a bear?” Jared’s confused expression evened out as realization dawned on him, Benji upset over losing Teddy in the store. “How thoughtful,” his cheeks twitched as he suppressed a smile. “Benji,” he called up the stairs, “can you and Teddy come down here for a minute? You have a visitor.”

 A loud squeal preceded the thundering sound of youth in motion. Hiding the bear behind his back, Jensen frowned when two sets of sneaker-clad feet came into view. His eyebrows rose gradually higher as Benji and another blonde haired boy descended the stairs, threatening to disappear into his hairline by the time they jumped the last few steps and ran to Jared’s side. Benji stood confidently in front of his father while the other child hid behind the safety of Jared’s legs.

“Benji, you remember Deputy Ackles from the store yesterday?” Benji nodded his head, glass green eyes curious and wide. “Deputy, I didn’t get a chance to introduce you to my other son, Benji’s twin brother,” Jared gently reached back and cupped TJ’s head, maneuvering his face out of the denim of Jared’s jeans and into the light, “This is TJ, but Benji and I call him _Teddy_ ,” he gave Jensen a pointed look, lips twitching again, “TJ, this is Deputy Ackles. He’s an old friend of mine.”

“Hey, TJ,” Jensen smiled at the little boy clutching Jared’s pant leg like a lifeline and groaned internally as Jared’s words sunk in. Benji had been looking for his brother yesterday. His fingers convulsed around the still hidden bear.

TJ ducked his head and gazed at him with slanted green eyes through his shaggy bangs, a shy smile on his face. “Hi,” came the reply in a soft, almost inaudible, voice.

“I think Deputy Ackles has a gift for you,” Jensen tensed up. He hadn’t known about TJ and had only brought the one bear. He couldn’t give one child a gift and not the other, “both,” Jared finished. Jensen let out a relieved breath and flashed Jared a grateful look.

“A gift?” Benji repeated, expression turning shrewd.

“Uh, yeah. Here,” he pulled the simple brown bear, tin sheriff star pinned to its chest, from behind his back and held it out to the small boy.

Benji’s eyes went cold and he side-stepped in front of his brother, blocking TJ from Jensen’s view. “What’s it for?” 

Jensen startled, the flatness of the tone so alien in the childish voice. “For?” Jensen looked between Jared and Benji trying to understand what the boy meant.

“Benji,” Jared admonished, “Deputy Ackles just wanted to welcome y’all to the neighborhood.”

“But, Daddy,” Benji started, mouth shutting when TJ unwound his arms from Jared’s leg and timidly moved around his brother. He walked slowly, eyes watching Jensen carefully, and took the bear from Jensen’s grasp. 

“Thank you,” TJ breathed, hand smoothing over the bear’s furry face. He turned back to Benji and held out the toy to show his brother.

Benji’s stare had thawed at his father’s chastisement, but Jensen could see the suspicion that still lingered there. He ran his fingers over the thin metal badge, tentatively tracing the edges. He muttered a quiet ‘thank you’ when Jared’s fingers landed lightly on the base of his neck.

“Why don’t you boys take Sheriff Bear there upstairs and introduce him to your other friends?” 

“Come on Teddy,” Benji excitedly tugged on TJ’s hand, dragging him up the stairs.

Jared chuckled watching his children then turned his attention back to Jensen. “Sorry about that. They aren’t used to getting gifts unless it’s a birthday or holiday.”

“Little man seemed to think there was an ulterior motive,” Jensen watched Jared’s expression closely.

Jared shrugged then changed the subject. “I was going to make dinner. You, uh, want to stay?”

“I don’t want to impose,” Jensen’s hand went to his stomach when it growled.

“No trouble, really. Fajitas okay?” Jared checked the lock on the front door, peering out through the glass, and motioned for Jensen to follow. 

“As long as you’re sure,” dropping his hat on the table just inside the door, Jensen trailed behind the taller man into the kitchen, “Fajitas would be great.” He plopped down at the table and watched as Jared pulled a large skillet from the cabinet next to the stove.

When Jared stood, the light highlighted the healing bruises again and Jensen bit his lip. “Hey Jared. What, uh, happened to your face?” He motioned toward his own jaw to illustrate what he was talking about.

“Oh, this?” Jared gently ran his fingertips over the darkened skin, “I was pulling a box down from the top shelf of my closet and lost my grip. The edge of it caught me across the jaw then I stumbled back and knocked the other side of my head on the door jamb.” He rolled his eyes and smiled sheepishly. “I never was a graceful gazelle.”

Jensen laughed, having been on the receiving end of several of Jared’s clumsier accidents. 

Laughing along, Jared stuck his head in the refrigerator to pull the ingredients he need out. “Okay so I’ve got steak and chick – oh no!”

“What is it?” Jensen stood, crossing to where Jared was obscured by the open door.

“Freaking refrigerator quit!” Jared stood, a warm package of chicken in one hand and an equally tepid package of steak in the other. Blood dripped from the edges of the cellophane wrapping. “Everything in here will have to be thrown out.” Eyes widening, he transferred the steak to the other hand – stacking it on top of the chicken – and wrenched open the freezer door. He groaned at the rainbow puddle in the bottom where a box of popsicles had melted. Shutting the door, he banged his head on the front and groaned. “I told Chad the kitchen appliances needed to be replaced, but did he listen? No!” Jared mumbled under his breath to himself, forehead against the steel and eyes closed. “Dude, everything’s five by five,” Jared imitated his friend perfectly, “What the hell does that even mean? Five by five!?”

“It means he’s been watching Buffy too much and jerking off to Eliza Dushku,” Jensen joked. “Its old radio terminology…” he trailed off when Jared rolled his head to the side to look at him, “that you care nothing about. O-kay. So, where’s the garbage can?”

“Deputy, I know I invited you to dinner, but I gotta clean this up and still figure out something for us to eat,” he waved the meat, drops of blood falling to the tiled floor.

“Exactly,” Jensen interrupted, rubbing his hands together, “So let’s get a garbage can and get busy. Then I’ll take you and the boys out for dinner.”

“I can’t let you do that. I’ll come up with something,” Jared crossed to the sink and pulled the garbage can from the cabinet below. He dumped the two packages of meat into it and carried it back to the refrigerator.

“You’re not letting me do anything. I want to. Consider it a welcome to the community. Now, come on. The sooner we start, the sooner we can get something to eat.”

They worked together tossing out the food from the refrigerator and freezer and wiping out the dribbled, melted messes in the base of both compartments. They talked about Chad and how he was doing, Jensen surprised that the odd couple friends had remained in touch. Soon, Jared was calling up the stairs for the twins to get their shoes on while digging through the hall closet for his own. After a small debate, Jensen convinced Jared to let him drive since Jared’s house was on his way home and gas was expensive. He couldn’t hide his proud smirk when he heard Benji lean over to TJ in the backseat and whisper about ‘Deputy Ackles’ sweet ride’.

 

* * *

 

Sam Ferris’ diner was fairly slow for a Saturday night, half the town at the football stadium in Plymouth where the Plains County High Panthers were scheduled to play their bitter rivals the Mesa County Mullets (the poor bastards) for the Division 2A Championship. Sam and Sandy greeted them at the door heartily welcoming Jared to the town and gushing over the boys. Seated at a table, they were looking over their menus when Sandy came by for their order.

“What will it be?” 

“Tell her what you’d like, boys,” Jensen prompted, surprised at how quiet the twins were. They sat in their seats, heads down and hands folded in their laps. At Jensen’s encouraging words, they questioningly raised their eyes to Jared seeking permission.

“Go ahead. It’s all right,” Jared smiled at his sons.

Sitting straighter in their chairs, eyes bright, the two boys told Sandy their choices. Turning her attention to Jared, Sandy smiled kindly.

“I’ll, uh, have a side salad with the vinaigrette dressing and a glass of water,” he smiled, closing his menu and setting it on the table.

Jensen waited a moment for Jared to order his entrée, but when it became clear that the order was complete, he snorted. “A side salad?” 

Something odd flashed across Jared’s face – a quick there and gone expression that Jensen had never seen before. “Yeah?”

“Dude, that’s not dinner. Salad is a promise to your stomach that dinner is coming.” 

Jared blushed, pink staining the tips of his ears and his cheeks. Uncomfortable, he flicked a glance up at Sandy, who’d become intensely interested in the flickering neon OPEN sign in the window, and licked his lips. “I’ve,” he cleared his throat, “I’ve had a weight problem since the twins were born so I watch my diet.”

Jensen’s eyebrows shot up, gaze taking in Jared’s rail thin appearance. “The only weight problem I see is that you don’t have any. Jared,” he leaned forward, hand resting on Jared’s forearm, “there is no way that a side salad is enough food to keep your body running. “

“It’s fine, really,” Jared cajoled, “I like salad.”

Annoyed, Jensen blew out a long breath and noticed the boys tense up at the aggravated rush of air. “Sandy, I’ll have the chicken fried steak with milk gravy, mashed potatoes, green beans and a roll with sweet tea to drink.” He closed his menu and handed it back to Sandy then, looking at Jared, he smirked, “And bring Jared some of Sam’s meatloaf with mashed potatoes with brown gravy, carrots and a corn biscuit.” When Jared’s head snapped up, he shrugged, “For dessert. You don’t like it, don’t eat it. I’ll take it home for lunch tomorrow.”

Jared glared at Jensen while Sandy gathered their menus and promised to return with their drinks. Searching for a quick topic change, Jensen noticed black paint under Jared’s thumbnail. “I saw that you had the roof replaced. I was wondering who you had do the work, I need to get someone to look at mine before the heavy snows start.”

Jared’s face went blank with the new direction of the conversation. “Uh, I did,” he answered.

“You did? By yourself?”

“Yeah. It wasn’t that hard, just peeling off the old shingles and laying the new ones. You know my dad is a contractor. I spent most of my summers during high school on roofs.” 

“That’s different. You were working with a crew. This time you were alone. What would have happened if you’d fallen? There was nobody there to help you,” Jensen couldn’t comprehend how Jared could take such a large risk.

“He wasn’t alone,” Benji snapped before Jared could say anything, “Me and Teddy were there. We know how to call 911. We’re not _babies_.”

Jensen had nearly forgotten about the two boys at the table, they were so quiet. At Benji’s harsh words, he smiled at them and reigned in his emotions. “I don’t think you’re babies and I’m sorry I made you believe that I did.” 

“We know our address and everything,” Benji added with pride. 

“Let’s hear it then,” Jensen grabbed on to the opportunity to find a more solid ground with Jared’s kids. He’d been floundering all night.

Benji nudged his brother’s arm and nodded his head. 

“We live at 16 Murphy Road,” TJ’s voice started off soft, but when he realized he had Jensen’s full attention it became stronger, ”in the old McIntyre house. Our phone number is 555-4663. Daddy’s cell number is 555-8946. Daddy’s name is Jared Tristan Padalecki. His birthday is July 19th . Me and Benji’s birthday is September 19th.”

“Nice,” Jensen nodded his head, impressed.

Feeling left out, Benji continued, “Daddy’s blood type is AB+. We have B+. Daddy is anemic and…”

Jared cleared his throat. “That’s enough, show-off. I think Deputy Ackles gets the point. You’re capable of calling 911 if I hurt myself.” He gave his sons a quick warning glance.

 At that moment, Sandy came back over with their drinks. 

“So, Jared,” she started, tray held to her chest, “what on earth made you move to our little slice of heaven?”

“Oh, Jensen did,” he took a sip of his water, “when we knew each other, he talked about how nice the town was and how great it was to grow up here. When I was looking to move, I immediately thought of here. Wowakan seemed like a good place to raise my boys.” He looked fondly at the twins who were playing a convoluted game with their fingers.

Jensen remembered telling Jared about his hometown. Nights spent cuddled up on the couch, discussing the future. Fantasies about them getting married and having a few kids. Jared always loved the idea of settling down where Jensen grew up. Of course the bite of reality had been that Jared wanted those things sooner rather than later and Jensen wasn’t ready. Then Chicago happened and it didn’t matter anymore. 

“What do you do for work?” Jensen shot Sandy a look at the inquisition, the young waitress too curious for her own good.

“Jared’s a photographer,” Jensen interrupted.

“Really?” The girl gasped, considering Jared with an awed expression.

“No, not like he makes it sound,” Jared ran a hand through his hair and took another drink from his water glass, eyes lowered and sad, “I used to be, but demand waned. I did get a job over in Carter at a portrait studio. I start there on Monday.”

Jensen bit his lip to hold back all the questions he wanted to ask. Jared’s photos were breathtaking and inspiring, a creative use of light and angle to transform what would normally be an ordinary shot into something magnificent. Jensen had a hard time believing that interest had ‘waned.’

“Sandy, leave those boys alone and let them catch up,” Sam called from the kitchen, “If you need something to do, the grease in the fryer needs to be changed.”

Sandy scrunched up her nose and excused herself, moving to the counter to refill the sugar, salt and pepper shakers.

“Small town,” Jensen offered in way of apology, “You’re the new hot commodity.”

Jared chuckled, “Guess, I’d better get used to it.”

Conversation flowed easily, paused only for the delivery of their food. There were no further questions from Sandy, Sam more than likely having scolded her for being nosy. The twins joined in when the subject of school was broached. They were in Ms. Cortese’s class and both boys seemed to be sporting crushes on the teacher. Genevieve, a friend of his sister, had been bemoaning lately her lack of love life and Jensen couldn’t wait to tell her she’d caught the eye of the town’s two most eligible bachelors – if she could be patient for, say, fifteen years. 

They finished their meals. Jared polished off the meatloaf and sides after Jensen kept subtly pushing the plate closer to him, moaning pornographically with each bite. Jensen was just about to suggest that they go over to his folks’ ice cream parlor for dessert when a hand landed possessively on his shoulder. Looking up, his jaw clenched.

“Jensen,” the dark haired man smiled tightly, “so good to see you. You’ve haven’t answered any of my calls.”

“Ed,” Jensen ground out, warning evident in his tone. He chanced a glance at Jared and could see his walls coming up. “There’s a reason for that.”

“Ouch, Jensen, that hurt,” Ed pushed Jensen’s shoulder lightly.

“Ed, look, we’re trying to enjoy our dinner here,” Jensen pointed out, hoping that the thick-headed idiot could take a hint. 

Narrowed eyes took in Jared and the two boys and he sneered, “How…domestic. You’re being rude. Aren’t you going to introduce me to your friends?”

Jensen sighed, fist clenching underneath the table. So much for Ed taking a hint. Jensen guessed he shouldn’t be surprised. Ed hadn’t understood the other five times Jensen had turned him down for a repeat of their one night drunken debacle, so why did he expect him to catch on now?  “Ed, this is an old friend of mine, Jared, and his sons, Benji and TJ. Jared, boys, this is Ed Westwick.”

“Pleasure to meet you,” Jared nodded while the twins stared on stonily.

“I’m sure,” Ed’s sneer deepened, “Jensen, when you’re done with this whole _Father Knows Best_ thing. Give me a call. There a nightclub over in Carter that I think we’d enjoy.” Six times. He slipped his hand down from Jensen’s shoulder to rub across his pec. Smiling once more at Jared, Ed turned and walked away, sashaying his hips as he went.

A deafening silence weighed on the table in the wake of the blustering tornado that was Ed Westwick. 

“You should drop us off at the house and go out with your friend, Jensen. It is Saturday night after all,” Jared wiped his mouth on his napkin and set it on his empty plate.

“Hey, boys,” Jensen said softly, lifting up to dig his wallet from his back pocket, “Why don’t you go over and see if Sandy has change for this,” he pulled a dollar from the leather folds, “then try your luck at that claw game.” He’d seen the boys give the machine a longing look when they came in.

Jared nodded his head at their quizzical eyes and they scampered off to the register. Jared turned in his chair so he could keep an eye on them and Jensen mimicked the posture.

“Jared, you ever make a mistake when you were drunk?”

Jared’s head snapped to Jensen, eyes wide and guarded, and the older man took that as a ‘yes.’ Jensen kept his gaze on the two kids with their faces pressed to the glass enclosure of the game.

“Ed was a drunken mistake about three months back. _A_ , singular. He’s been trying to get me to go out again ever since and seems to think that no means _try again later_. Saturday nights I’m usually here or at Fire Water having a drink. So trust me when I say I have no desire to be out with Ed.” He didn’t know why he felt it necessary to explain. They weren’t dating, Jared wasn’t his boyfriend – hadn’t been in a long time. He couldn’t deny, though, he’d missed Jared and hadn’t realized how much until he saw him again.

“Deputy, its fine. I was going to say that I need to get the boys home anyway. It’s after eight and they’ll be monsters tomorrow if they don’t get to bed soon.” Jared moved to retrieve his wallet, glancing at the bill Sandy’d dropped off earlier.

Jensen held out a hand for his to stop. “I’m paying. Welcome to town, remember? I was going to suggest ice cream, but I doubt you want to give them a bunch of sugar right before bed.”

“No,” Jared chuckled, “definitely not a good idea.”

“How about this,” Jensen plucked some bills from his wallet to cover the check, “I come by tomorrow afternoon and take you out for ice cream?” At Jared’s hesitant look, he added, “Momma knows you’re in town and is dying to see you.”

The mention of Jensen’s mother erased any resistance Jared may have had. “Okay, Deputy,” Jared ducked his head shyly.

Jensen did a mental fist pump at scoring a second date. _Date_? He grumbled internally. God, he hated when Chris was right. 

 


	5. Chapter 5

The offer in Chicago came right on the heels of Jensen cracking the biggest case of his career. A serial rapist had been stalking the streets of Savannah, preying primarily on the town’s vast collegiate population, and elusively evading arrest for over six months. Jensen worked the case like a man obsessed, few people understanding his motivation went beyond civic duty. The assailant was brutal in his attacks and undiscriminating in his choices, allowing both genders an equal opportunity at victimization. Each young man he interviewed – beaten, bruised and abused – was a reminder that it could easily be Jared lying there broken and pale against the bleached white hospital sheets. 

After weeks of tracking the bastard, a mixture of deduction, a little intuition and a shitpile of luck finally led Jensen to Aaron Whitfield right before he struck again. Albert Foote, Chi-town’s visiting police captain, was in town for a conference on protecting shipping ports from terrorism when the bust happened. He’d been impressed with Jensen’s sharp mind and tenacious spirit, clapping the young officer on the shoulder and shaking his hand, proudly telling him they needed his kind in the Windy City. Jensen was called into his Captain’s office two days later so Foote could offer him a position on their Special Victims Unit. He’d never forget Chris’ chuckling ‘how very Hollywood of you’ in his ear when he told him. In the end it was ironic that his love for Jared, his need to keep him safe, was what led Jensen to leaving him, hurting him.

Jensen lasted almost three years in Chicago before it got to be too much. Thirty five months of timid housewives beaten to within an inch of their lives, professing their spouses’ innocence and undying devotion, and assaulted men and women devastated when their attackers claimed they’d asked to be raped. A hundred and fifty weeks of roofies and DNA and rape kits, of acquittals thanks to slick lawyers and even slipperier loopholes. Over a thousand days of seeing some of the worst that humankind had to offer and Jensen was headed back to his hometown where things moved slower and life was simpler. 

He’d been gone from Chicago almost a year longer than he was there. His life now mainly consisted of Mr. Leary’s loose cows and the occasional drunk and disorderly, nothing heartbreaking or soul wrenching, but the quiet life hadn’t dulled his instincts. And Jensen had a few questions.

He sat down at his computer, waiting for it to boot up, still smiling from his night with Jared and the twins. He’d dropped them off about an hour ago, Jared giving him a small smile as he exited while the twins graced him with identical wary looks. He knew it wasn’t much, but it was a start. 

The lilting Windows jingle tinkled softly and a picture of him, Steve and Chris performing at Fire Water filled the screen.  A few clicks and a couple of words in a search engine brought up a list of articles on Jared Padalecki Photography. Sorting them chronologically, oldest to newest, he started at the top. He found raving critic reviews and auction results where pieces were sold, some going for more than Jensen’s yearly salary. After he made it past the first half dozen queries, the articles became more recent and the tone changed. Critics worried that the subject matter on Jared’s newer photographs was too dark, the spark that made him great fizzling.

_If Thomas Kincade was the painter of light then Jared Padalecki was its photographer. However, in recent years the glow has dimmed. The last two shows hosted by Olyphant-Padalecki Originals has shown a drastic break from Padalecki’s earlier work, the themes dark and ominous. Gone are the vibrant colors and optimistic shots making way for two-tone gray. Has the artist once known for his interesting take on everyday sights, manipulating light and shadow to transform them from ordinary to extraordinary, fallen into his own Blue Period?_

Jensen clicked off the article, skimming the next couple, until he reached the last entry. 

_Crowning the New King_

_A new king has been crowned. In a whirlwind rise to fame, Tristan Michaels has taken the art world by storm and replaced Jared Padalecki at the pinnacle of the photographic summit. Displaying the talent and eye that was once the hallmark of his contemporary, Michaels’ pictures have become Amazon’s top selling artwork, usurping Padalecki who held that honor for the last two years. A spokesperson for Michaels’ production company, CJ Productions, stated that Michaels was “thrilled that the public has responded so positively to his work and immensely grateful to Padalecki” who the up-and-comer cites as one of his greatest influences. In related news, Timothy Olyphant, Padalecki’s long-time partner and company spokesperson, made a public statement saying that Padalecki had decided to retire from the art world to spend more time with his family. “Jared is confident that the future of photography is in good hands with such talented artists as Tristan Michaels leading the way,” Olyphant was reported saying. Jared Padalecki is father to twin six-year-old sons and was quoted in a 2009 article in Shutterbug stating, “My children take precedent over everything in my life. They are my reason and my love, my greatest creations.”_

Jensen leaned back in his chair and laced his fingers behind his head. So, interest hadn’t waned; Jared had retired to spend more time with TJ and Benji. That made more sense. Even with the souring reviews, Jared’s photographs were still going at auction for fairly hefty sums. Jensen could tell after just a few hours that Jared doted on his children and if anything could make him give up his career it would be those two little boys.

Well, that answered one of his questions. Now for is other. He lurched forward and typed in a web address.  He clicked on the white search box, letters following the wake of the cursor. 

**Olyphant, Timothy David**

He pressed the SEARCH button and blew out a breath when an hour glass appeared on the screen, the sand falling from the upper portion then magically refilling when it was empty. Jensen had been a cop for a long time and his bullshit detector was finely honed, but it didn’t take Columbo to find Jared’s dive-bombing box story circumspect. The bruises, the kids’ skittish behavior, Jared’s ‘weight problems’ – they were classic signs of an abused spouse. The computer beeped.

**0 Results Found**

Timothy had never been arrested. Didn’t mean he’d never hurt Jared or, Jensen shuddered, the twins. Scrubbing a hand over his face, he picked up his cell phone and ran his thumb over the hard plastic case. It was nine o’clock according to the small time display in the lower right hand corner of the screen which meant it was eleven in D.C. Sighing, mentally preparing himself for the inevitable ass chewing he was about to get, Jensen scrolled through his contacts and pressed CALL. The phone rang four times before a sleep gruff voice answered.

“Ackles, so help me God, this better be fucking important.”

“Hello to you too,” Jensen chuckled, shutting his computer down. Jensen had met Special Agent Jason Manns while working on the Whitfield case. Manns was the profiler sent as a consultant by the FBI, his specialty sexual predators, and, over the course of the case, the two men had established a friendship. 

“Don’t you _hello_ me,” Jensen could hear the rustle of fabric, “I have to be up in five hours to catch an early flight, so talk fast and get to the point.”

“I’m sorry, man.”

“Point, Jensen, or I’m hanging up.”

“I need you to do some research for me.”

There was a click and shifting of more fabric. When Jason spoke again it was clearer, “Hold on, let me find a pen,” the scraping of a drawer opening, “You working a case?”

“Maybe,” Jensen hedged, “Got all the signs.”

“Okay, I’m ready. Shoot.”

“Timothy David Olyphant, O-l-y-p-h-a-n-t, from Atlanta, Georgia.”

“What exactly am I looking for?”

“Domestic disturbance calls, sealed records, arrests, detainments, the whole gambit.” Jensen twirled around in his office chair and stared at the ceiling.

“Okay, I’ll get on it tomorrow.” There was a click again.

“Thanks, Jason. I owe you one.” Jensen pushed up from his chair and dropped on the couch, digging between the cushions for the remote.

“Careful. One of these days I just might collect.” Jason groaned as he settled back on his bed.

“Anytime, buddy. Get some sleep.”

“Talk to you in a few.” Jason disconnected the call.

Jensen found the remote down by the arm and flicked on the TV, distractedly flipping through the channels. The small smile from earlier creeping back on his face when he thought about taking Jared and the kids for ice cream tomorrow.

 

* * *

 

Timothy slumped low in his leather office chair, feet tucked behind the wheels to prevent the casters from rolling. His hands slid around the slender hips of the man in his lap, palms cupping the jut of bone while his fingertips pressed into toned thighs. He could feel the muscles contract and relax with each rise and fall, as the tanned body rode him in a fast, hard rhythm. Matt Cohen was gorgeous, his back rippling before Timothy’s eyes with every undulation. Timothy had chosen his lover well. A willing, eager cockslut, possessing a kinky side that rivaled some fetish stars, with a tight hole, a warm mouth and ready-to-go attitude.

“Oh, yeah, Timmy. Feel so good, stuffed so full. Love you fucking my tight hole, pounding me so good. Making me take it. Ugh, fuck. Yeah.”

Timothy tightened his fingers in a subtle warning. Matt did have a few drawbacks including his penchant for cheesy porn dialogue. 

“Come on, daddy. Bounce your baby boy on your lap.”

And a daddy kink. The combination of the two had forced Timothy to invest in a variety of gags, preferring to see Matt’s exquisite body rather than hear his incessant babbling. He’d avoided one this time, mainly due to the spontaneous nature of the act. Hearing Matt inhale, a signal that he was about to be subjected to another string of inane dirty talk, Timothy lurched forward, forcing Matt unsteadily to his feet without breaking their connection. Matt squawked at the abrupt change, grinding back trying to reestablish a rhythm once he found his footing. Timothy grabbed behind his right knee and lifted the leg onto the desk, his other hand pushing Matt’s chest flush with the leather blotter. Matt’s breath fogged the glass desktop as he panted out ‘ughs’ and ‘ahhs’ in staccato bursts. His hands curled over the edge of the desk, framing his head, his left bumping the engraved wooden nameplate and his right jostling a framed photo.

Watching the picture dance on its edges before settling, Timothy’s thrusts turned brutal, being rough because he could and Matt wouldn’t complain. One hand wrapped around the back of Matt’s neck and the other gripped his hip, effectively keeping the younger man in the submissive position. Each push into Matt’s body shook the desk hard enough to shift the items on top. Feeling his orgasm quickly approaching, he leaned over the sweaty body beneath him and twisted Matt’s dark locks around his fingers.

“Come for me, you fucking slut,” Timothy growled, biting hard on Matt’s shoulder.

“Oh, fuck!” Timothy’s command punctuated by the pain in his shoulder, sent Matt over the edge, cock jerking as it streaked the green blotter with white stripes.  Timothy groaned and thrust in hard, the side of the desk lifted off the ground and the photo tumbled over the edge. The sound of breaking glass was masked by Timothy’s grunts as he came, hips erratically working him through the aftershocks. 

The phone on the desk, now inches from where it usually sat, beeped, the intercom light flashing red, and Kristen’s voice came through clear and slightly digitized. “Mr. Olyphant?”

Taking a calming breath, Timothy pushed the orange button near the keypad. “Yes, Ms. Bell?”

“You’re one o’clock is here.”

“Thank you, Ms. Bell. Please make sure he’s comfortable. Matt and I are wrapping up and I’ll be with him in a moment.” Timothy released his hold on Matt’s neck and ran his hand down the sweat-slickened skin of the younger man’s back.

“Yes, sir.” 

The intercom light went black and Timothy slapped Matt on the ass, a perfect red handprint blossoming in the pale skin. “Time to get back to work.”

Matt snorted, rolling his eyes. “Can’t move until you do.”

Timothy slid free, plopping down in his chair and removing the condom. He smirked when Matt righted himself gingerly and watched as he used some tissues to clean the blotter. Timothy handed the used rubber over to his assistant for disposal and tracked the man’s ass sway as he made his way to the attached bathroom. Standing, he fixed his clothing, smoothing the wrinkles and straightening his tie, and listened to Matt clean himself and redress. When the young man reappeared, his tousled hair the only clue that more than budget analysis had gone on behind the closed office door, Timothy handed him a stack of manila files with a wink. 

“Mr. Cohen, please show in my next appointment.”

Taking the files, Matt saluted his boss with them and flashed a smug smile before moving to the exit. “Mr. Pileggi, Mr. Olyphant will see you now.” Matt held the door open, nodding his head at the middle-aged man as he passed, and then excused himself. 

Mitch Pileggi walked into the office, nose scrunching slightly at the smell of sex hanging thickly in the air. Ignoring the cloying scent, he moved confidently toward the well-dressed man behind the desk.

“Mr. Pileggi, come in, come in. I apologize for making you wait. I just needed to finish with my assistant,” Timothy held out his hand, assessing the man as he approached.

Sniffing the air audibly, Pileggi smiled, “Seems like you both finished.” Eying the outstretched hand, he raised his palm out to the businessman. “Sorry, pretty sure I don’t want to know where that has been recently.” Noting Timothy’s displeased frown, he shook his head. “Not my place to judge, just prefer to keep my hands to myself.”  

“Please, sit down,” Timothy gestured with his still extended hand to the two plush chairs opposite his desk.

Sitting down, Pileggi noticed something on the ground and picked up the broken frame, taking in the picture of a handsome man with his arms curled around a set of twin boys. 

“My Jared,” Timothy supplied, an odd tone in his voice, “and our sons.”

Pileggi pulled his gaze away from the portrait and set the picture on the desk. “Very handsome family.”

“They’re actually the reason you’re here. I need you to find them.” 

“They’re missing?” Pileggi leaned back in the chair and considered the man across from him carefully.

“Three weeks ago, Jared left with the boys while I was at work. No one has seen or heard from him since.” Timothy rested his elbows on the desk, hands folded, “I need you to bring my family home.”

Pileggi didn’t miss the predatory gleam in Timothy’s eye when he talked about Jared and he’d been around enough to know what it meant. Like he’d said, not his place to judge. So long as Timothy had the money, Pileggi would do the job. “I’m not cheap,” he warned.

“I’m not worried,” Timothy answered, “Find Jared and you can name your price.”

Pileggi’s brows arched, “I’m going to need a list of friends, family and co-workers. Information on Jared’s place of employment, his clubs and hobbies. The kids’ doctor, their school, their playmates. Details on Jared’s credit cards, banking accounts and cell phone. And anything else you think might be helpful.”

Timothy opened the upper right drawer of his desk and retrieved a thick manila envelope. He tossed it across the desk, stopping just short of falling over the other side. “I think everything you need is in there. If you need something more, let me know.”

“I’ll take a look at this and get started,” Mitch picked up the envelope and rose from his seat. “I’ll be in touch.”

Timothy stood, hand extending out of habit, but retracting it when he remembered Pileggi’s aversion to shaking it. “Mr. Pileggi, I want Jared found. I don’t care what it takes or how much it costs.”

Mitch’s eyes dropped to the picture of the man and two boys behind the cracked glass. It didn’t escape his notice that Olyphant hadn’t said anything about wanting the kids back. Fixing a plastic smile on his face, Pileggi nodded. “Understood.”


	6. Chapter 6

Jensen shoved the gearshift into park and looked at the weathered farmhouse. It was coming together – bright white lattice work now joined the dark black shingles in revamping the outside and Jensen could see where a section of the peeling paint had been scraped off near the front door. Getting out, he adjusted his cowboy hat and made his way to the front door. He frowned when his knocks went unanswered, knowing that the family was home – a Silverado in the driveway, a few years old, but in obvious good repair, and the ringing sounds of childish laughter floating out of the upstairs windows attesting to that fact. He circled the house and rapped on the newly-hung screen door at the back entrance. A savory smell wafted on the gentle breeze, reminding Jensen of Sunday suppers. A grunt had him cupping his hands around his eyes and peering through the meshed panel to see into the cheery kitchen. 

Jared stood in the doorway that separated the kitchen from the dining room. His foot was wedged under the swinging door to lift it up, left hand holding it flush with the jamb while he screwed the hinge to the casing with his right. Humming a tune that Jensen couldn’t catch enough of to identify, Jared wiggled the foot beneath the door as the weight impeded the circulation to his toes and twisted the screwdriver. 

“Jared?”

Jared startled, dropping the screwdriver on his free foot, and cursed gently. Shaking the pain away, Jared shifted so he could see the figure at the back door. “Deputy?”

“Yeah, I knocked, but you were in your own little world. I came by to take y’all for ice cream, remember?”

“Oh, right,” Jared murmured absently as he tried to bend over and retrieve the screwdriver. It was just outside his reach and he stretched further, his grip on the door faltering. It shifted, the holes in the hinge sliding back and forth on the partially secured screws. Gripping the door tight again to steady it, Jared looked between the tool on the floor and the door.

Jensen laughed at the comical picture Jared created. “Would you like me to come in and lend you a hand?”

“I got it,” Jared huffed, reaching down and stopping once more when the door wobbled again. Blowing out a breath, he stared at the ceiling in an obvious plea for patience.  

Jensen leaned against the screen door, head cocked to the side with a barely suppressed smirk at the pseudo-yoga position Jared was bent in. “How’s that working out for ya, Skippy?”

Hanging his head, Jared looked at Jensen out of the corner of his eye. “Deputy, when you finish choking on your own laughter, do you think you could give me a hand?”

“But you look like you have everything under control.” Jensen’s cheeks spasmed as he fought the urge to smile.

“Jensen,” Jared whined, the tone and pleading look achingly familiar.

“I’m coming, baby.” Jensen froze, hand holding the screen door open with one foot over the threshold, and snapped his eyes to Jared. Jared was equally still with shock, eyes slightly wide. It had slipped out so easily, the endearment falling effortlessly from his tongue in automatic answer to Jared’s wheedling like it had so many times before.  “Jare, I –“

“Don’t worry about it. Do you think you could hurry up though? I’m starting to lose the feeling in my toes.”

Jensen sighed. Jared always had the innate ability to soothe awkward situations. It was one of the things that had made them so perfect together – Jensen would put his foot in his mouth and Jared would pull it out with a smile and a quip. He tossed his hat on the kitchen table, moving toward the contorted man. “Yeah, here.” He scooped up the screwdriver and handed it to the other man, grabbing the edge of the door to lift it from Jared’s foot.

“Ooh, ooh, ooh,” Jared took a few steps, walking on the heel of the previously trapped foot, curling and uncurling the toes. “Pins and needles,” he hissed.

Jensen rolled his eyes, shaking his head. “This door looks great,” he eyed the paneled door, sporting a recent coat of shiny semi-gloss paint.

“Thanks,” Jared tightened the loose screws and set the third in place, “I just sanded them down and slapped on a little paint.” He knelt down to start on the bottom hinge.

“You get ‘em all rehung,” Jensen frowned at Jared’s slender hand as it twisted the screwdriver, the tendons sharp and defined. There was a time when Jensen knew that hand almost as well as his own and he didn’t remember it ever looking so fragile.

“Just started actually,” Jared stood, brushing the knees of his jeans, “wanted to put up the lattice around the front before it got too hot.” He motioned at the door, “You can let go now.”

Jensen released the door and smiled as it swung freely. “Good job.  What say we take a whack at those other doors?” 

“I can’t ask you to do that,” Jared eyed him, speculatively, “It’s your day off. You should be out doing, day off,” he waved the screwdriver around vaguely, “…stuff.”

“You’re not asking me do anything, I’m offering. The only thing I had planned to do today was take you and the boys down to the parlor. Come on, working together we could knock this out in no time.” Jensen pushed the door lightly, forcing it to move in a gentle arc.

Jared bit his lip, eyes narrowed as he fought some internal battle. His gaze flicked to a grey and black crock pot on the counter, the source of the mouth-watering smell. “I’ll make you a deal. Doors for dinner?”

Jensen pretended to think about it. “What’re we having?”

“Pulled pork sandwiches.”

“I think you have yourself a deal.”

The next two hours flew by as they slowly, but steadily hung all the interior doors. Jensen talked about Chicago and how hard it had been on his soul and about the more hilarious misadventures he’d encountered as Deputy Sheriff of Plains County. He brought Jared up-to-date on the town gossip, the who’s who of Wowakan, including the deep secrets that were more shadowed than dark. For his part, Jared remained quiet, content to listen to Jensen’s tales, every once in a while interjecting an anecdote about the boys. He rarely talked about himself and never mentioned Timothy. The door to the twins’ room was last, the two small boys sitting on the floor amid a pile of Legos listening to Jensen recount the time Mr. Shaw stayed out late at the bar and came home to Mrs. Shaw throwing his clothes out their bedroom window onto the front lawn.

“It took us twenty minutes to calm her down enough to let Mr. Shaw back in the house,” Jensen laughed, holding the door steady for Jared.

“She sounds like quite the character,” Jared chuckled, shaking his head.

“She wasn’t scared?”

Jensen turned his head toward the twins, not sure which had spoken. TJ was biting his thumbnail while Benji looked disapproving.

“Ssh,” Benji hissed, “Grown-ups talking.”

TJ’s head bowed and his gaze dropped to the floor. “Sorry.”

Jensen crouched down to their eye level, keeping his hold on the door, and smiled. “It’s okay to ask questions, TJ, so long as you don’t interrupt. Then it would be rude. Now, what did you ask?”

“Was-wasn’t Mrs. Shaw scared that Mr. Shaw would be mad for throwing his clothes out the window?” TJ asked, quietly.

“Nah,” Jensen smiled softly, “They’ve been together forever. They might argue and bicker like the old married couple they are, but they love each other. Plus, I’ve known Frieda Shaw my whole life. If anyone should be scared it’s Mr. Shaw.” Jensen winked.

TJ was wide-eyed. “Father would’ve been mad,” TJ whispered.

Just as Jensen opened his mouth, Jared stood, “Done! You boys hungry?”

“Yeah!” the twins chorused, the previous unease disappearing with the promise of food.

“Good,” Jared wiped his hands on his jeans, “I’ll go down and fix dinner. Deputy Ackles is going to join us tonight.”

Cherubic faces turned unreadable and Jensen couldn’t help but wonder what was going on in those little minds. “I’ll give you a hand,” he followed Jared out of the room.

 

* * *

 

 

“Is he going to be our new Father?” TJ asked, watching his daddy and Deputy Ackles go down the stairs.

“No,” Benji rolled his eyes, “he’s just a friend of Daddy’s.” Looking at the sheriff bear that Deputy Ackles brought yesterday, Benji bit his bottom lip and turned to his brother, “Would it be so bad if he was?” 

“We have a father,” TJ answered, more bite to his words than Benji was used to hearing.

“We don’t need _him_ ,” Benji countered, “Deputy Ackles is cool.”

“You just like him cuz he’s a police occifer,” TJ countered.

Benji shrugged, ”Daddy was happy last night. He ate his dinner and – and he smiled.” He flicked a red Lego, watching it skitter across the wooden floor.

“I still don’t want him to be our father,” TJ clicked two green Legos together and finished the legs for the robot he’d been making.

 

* * *

 

 

“What can I do to help?” Jensen clapped his hands together as they made their way into the kitchen.

“Umm, you want to slice up one of those apples? Knives are in the drawer next to the sink,” Jared pointed at a basket of fresh fruit on the island.

Dean grabbed the cutting board off the counter and a knife from the drawer. Examining the apples, he picked a large one and sliced it down the middle. “You want me to just cut up one?”

“Yeah,” Jared pulled a large hunk of meat from the crockpot and set it on a platter, “Benji refuses to eat anything healthy unless it’s sliced. Somehow in his mind it’s not healthy if it’s cut up.” Armed with a fork in each hand, Jared scraped the tines over the meat, shredding the flesh away in layers.

“I never eat whole fruit,” Jensen mused, “You used to cut it up for breakfast and now I can’t eat it any other way.”

“It was the only way I could get _you_ to eat fruit,” Jared laughed at the memory, “It’s what gave me the idea to cut Benji’s.”

“Glad I could be of service,” Jensen bumped his hip into Jared’s when the younger man came over to get the buns from the bread box. Jared bumped him back, smiling as he carried the rolls over to the table. He picked up Jensen’s hat, huffing a small laugh, and set it on the counter by the phone where it wouldn’t be in danger of getting dirty.

 Dinner was good, relaxed and lighthearted. TJ was a little reserved, but Jensen could see him trying to hide smirks as they all traded stories and jokes. Jared dished the boys’ plates and served Jensen before setting a half a sandwich and a dollop of potato salad on his own plate. Jensen waited until Jared finished his meal, half of what he’d given the twins, then without looking or breaking stride in the retelling of getting Mrs. Hanson’s cat out of a tree – a hilarious tale involving two police officers and three volunteer fire fighters – took Jared’s plate and prepared another sandwich. He added another spoonful of potato salad along with a healthy portion of baked beans, gesturing with the spoons to illustrate the clusterfuck that had been the de-treeing of the cat, and set the plate down in front of Jared. When the kids were preoccupied with their peals of laughter, he stared pointedly at the plate until Jared began eating. 

Soon the food was gone, not enough to bother with leftovers, and the twins scampered up the stairs to wash their faces and hands and find their shoes. Jensen helped Jared clear the table and stood beside the sink with a dishtowel in hand to dry the dishes once Jared washed them.

“You don’t have to help, you know. Go relax, I’ll be done in a minute.” Jared dumped the silverware into the sink, splashing soapy water over his shirt.

“You cooked; the least I could do is help clean up.”

Jared considered him for a long moment, then nodded with a small smile and handed him the plate he’d been scrubbing.

 

* * *

 

 

“Your mom and dad really own the ice cream shop?” Benji looked out the window, taking in the large sign over the door that spelled Ackles Creamery.

“Yep,” Jensen shifted the Impala into park, “and my grandparents before that.”

“Cool,” TJ breathed, gazing out the window with the same starry-eyed expression.

Jared chuckled, “Come on, guys. Remember, best behavior.”

The boys dashed from the car to the door, shoving and jostling one another to be the first inside. Jared watched, shaking his head. “So much for best behavior.”

“Boys will be boys, Jared.” Jensen nudged him as he walked by.

“You know the only people who say that, are the ones that don’t have boys.” Jared called to his retreating back, taking a few longs strides to catch up. Jared stepped into the small shop and closed his eyes, inhaling the combined scent of refrigerated air, milk and sugar. “Remember Leopold’s back in Savannah? They had the best ice cream.”

A deep throaty chuckle caught Jared’s attention and his eyes flew open, “Since you’re family, I’ll let that one slide.” 

“Alex,” Jared smiled, reaching over the counter to shake the man’s hand and grunting when he was pulled into an awkward hug. “So good to see you.” Jensen’s father hadn’t changed much; maybe a little less hair on top and a little more girth around the middle, but he was essentially the same man Jared had been nervous to meet over eight years ago.

“You too, kid. Wow, I think you’ve grown more,” Alex Ackles looked down to see two blonde heads peering around Jared’s legs. “And who do we have here?”

“These are my sons, TJ,” he petted TJ’s head, then Benji’s, “and Benji. Who have apparently developed a sudden case of shyness.”

“I bet I can get them to come out,” Alex grinned, moving to the giant glass topped coolers that held the creamery’s offerings for the day. His strong hands moved fast and efficiently, scooping vanilla ice cream into glass sundae dishes. He turned his back and dug through a drawer set in the counter along the back wall, humming _Rock Around the Clock_ with the radio. When he came back to where Jared, Jensen and the twins stood, he set the two dishes in front of the wide-eyed children. Jared smiled; Alex had sunk two round chocolate disks into the top of each one and used chocolate chips to create eyes and a nose.

“Now,” Alex said, grabbing spoons from the container off to the side, “who does that look like?”

“Mickey Mouse!” TJ squeaked, taking the dish on the left while Benji took the one on the right.

“What do you boys say?” Jared prompted.

“Thank you, Mr. Ackles,” the boys chimed, heading for a table near the front window.

Jared watched them carefully as they crossed the ice cream parlor. His eyes never once strayed, a mother hawk on alert. 

“Jared, go sit with the kids and I’ll bring yours over.” 

Jared pulled his gaze from the kids. “You don’t mind?”

Jensen shook his head, jutting his chin toward the twin tornadoes. “Go on.”

 

Jensen was drinking his glass of water, smirking at Jared who was polishing off a double scoop sundae that Jensen had deemed he needed, while they waited for the boys to return from the restroom. A familiar feminine voice from the back made him groan, setting his glass back down.

“Jared!” 

Jared’s hand froze midway to his mouth, ice cream dripping from the edges of the spoon, stunned by the high pitched squeal that sounded like his name. He twisted in his seat in time for Karen Ackles to envelope him in a hug. 

“Hey, Momma Ackles. How have you been?” Jared could feel the blush staining his cheeks. Jensen’s mother had always treated him like another son, but he didn’t think that would continue once he stopped dating her second-born.

“Don’t you give me that ‘how’ve you been’ nonsense! I’m wounded, Jared,” her hand fluttered to her chest dramatically. “You’ve been in this town for weeks and haven’t come by to see me.” She cradled his face between her hands and Jensen could see her noting the thinness before she pressed a kiss to his forehead. 

“I’m sorry,” Jared ducked his head properly chastised. “I’ve been real busy trying to get the house in order before I start work tomorrow.”

“Oh, where’re you working?”

“I’m the new photographer at Amber Benson Studios over in Plymouth.” He scraped his spoon around the edges of his dish trying to catch every bit of ice cream sticking to the sides.

“That’s wonderful dear. I know how much you love photography,” she was cut off by the return of TJ and Benji, who quietly slipped into their seats.

“Oh, Momma Ackles, these are my boys, TJ and Benji,” he smiled at the boys, indicating which was which with a wave of his hand. A sharp intake of breath had him turning his attention back to Jensen’s mother.

“Momma, you okay?” Jensen’s hand gently cupped his mother’s arm.

Karen blinked, composing herself. “Yes, of course,” she laid her hand over Jensen’s on her arm. “I was just surprised. Jared, your sons are beautiful!” Her eyes quickly flicked from one childish face to the other and then to Jared before finally resting on Jensen.

“Um, thank you,” Jared answered uncertainly. He was concerned over the look on Karen’s face. She was pale with an expression that appeared to be equal measures shocked and awed. 

“Maybe you should sit down,” Jensen grabbed a chair from a nearby table, the metal legs scraping loudly against the tiled floor. The harsh grating sound startled TJ, who was reaching for his own water, and he bumped the glass, causing it to fall over. The cool liquid rushed across the table, spilling over the edge and into Jensen’s lap.

“Whoa!” Jensen jolted to his feet as the icy water soaked into the crotch of his jeans. The sound of his chair being pushed back was quickly followed by two more. He looked up from the wet denim to see Jared hurriedly trying to mop up the table and Benji standing protectively beside a cowering TJ.

“I’m so sorry, Jensen. I’ll get it cleaned up. I’m sorry. He didn’t mean to. It was just an accident,” Jared righted the glass and stuffed his sodden napkin inside, grabbing Benji’s to continue absorbing the water.

“Jared, it’s okay. It’s just water. I was surprised, is all,” Jensen soothed, hand covering Jared’s when he noticed it shaking. 

“Jensen’s right,” Karen added, “I can’t tell you how many times this happens. Alex,” she called to her husband behind the counter, “toss me a rag, please.”

Jensen caught a glimpse of white flying through the air as he knelt next to TJ. Benji’s posture went rigid and TJ tried to scoot farther away. “TJ, I’m not mad. It’s really okay. It was just an accident. No big deal. We’ll get it cleaned up and then you can finish your ice cream. Okay?”

Two sets of suspicious green eyes stared at him and he could see their desire to believe battling with their fear of deception. Just one more X on the checklist in Jensen’s mind. After a short pause, TJ tentatively uncurled, “Okay.”

“TJ, right?” Karen asked the little boy, not yet familiar which one was which. When TJ nodded, she handed him his half-eaten bowl of ice cream that some of the water had spilled into. TJ took the dish dejectedly certain that his treat was over as punishment. “Go up to the counter and ask Papaw Ackles to get you a fresh bowl. Benji,” she turned to the other twin, “take yours up there too and he’ll add a little extra to make things fair.”

The twins sat in stunned silence, TJ staring dumbly at his watered down dessert and Benji blank faced. Jared gently lay a hand on TJ’s shoulder, nodding in encouragement when glass green eyes shifted to him. 

Watching the boys approach the counter, Karen sat down. Flagging down Erin, the teenager that helped them out a few days a week after school and on the weekends, she handed over the rag and the napkin filled glass, thanking the young girl. “So, Jared, how’s your momma and ‘em been?  She always sends me the nicest Christmas cards.”

“Good.”  Jared sealed the top of the straw in his water glass with his index finger, lifting the straw from the water and releasing the seal to allow the liquid to fall back into the glass. “Dad had a heart attack few years back, but I hear he’s doing much better. My brother…”

“Hear?” Jensen hadn’t meant to interrupt, but he’d been caught by surprise. Jared was always extremely close to his family.

“Yeah,” Jared ducked his head, eyes focused on the white tabletop, “I haven’t been by to see them in a couple of years. Was real busy with the twins and all and… and just couldn’t find the time.” 

Jensen frowned; that didn’t sound like Jared at all. Glancing at his mother, he saw that she was thinking similar thoughts.

Jared dropped the straw back into his glass and wiped his hands down his thighs, blowing out a long breath. The twins came back and he helped them get situated in their seats with their bowls. He smiled, dimples on display, and voice cheerful as he transitioned the conversation. “Granny and Granddad are coming to see us for Christmas though. Right, boys?” The twins nodded excitedly, their mouths full of ice cream. “I’m trying to get the house done before they arrive so they’ll have someplace nice to stay for the holidays.” 

Without missing a beat, Karen latched onto the change in topic. “Jensen mentioned you were working on it. You still have a lot left to do?”

“Unfortunately. I still have to paint the inside and outside. I need to pull up the floorboards on both the front and back porches and put new down. The hardwood needs to be stripped, sanded and refinished. The kitchen cabinets need to be painted and the countertops replaced, along with some of the appliances and don’t even get me started on the landscaping. I have weekends off though, so I figured I’ll just whittle away at it and get done what I can.” He leaned over and wiped a streak of vanilla from Benji’s cheek with a napkin, earning a scowl from the child.

“You’re planning to do that all by yourself?” Karen asked, overwhelmed by just hearing the list, never mind attempting to complete it.

“Daddy’s handy. Him’s daddy taught him,” TJ beamed with pride, chocolate ringing his mouth.

“That’s right,” Jensen added, “Jared’s already reshingled the roof, refinished the doors and hung the new lattice work around the porches.”

“Jensen Ross Ackles!” his mother chastised, his full name making him cringe, “You knew that Jared was out there doing all that work by himself and you didn’t tell anyone or go help him?”

“I helped him re-hang the interior doors today,” Jensen defended.

“I’ll make sure to shine up your gold star,” she replied sarcastically, leveling her youngest son with a disappointed glare.

“Momma Ackles, it’s fine. I don’t need any help,” Jared placated, feeling sorry for Jensen.

“See, Momma. He’s still just as stubborn as ever. I had to bargain with him to let me help,” Jensen raised his hands in exasperation. Sometimes he felt like he couldn’t win – damned if he did and damned if he didn’t. Not that he would admit it out loud, but if it came down to pleasing his momma or Jared…His momma would win every time. She was a hard woman to handle when she was angry and he’d learned at a young age not to cross her.

Scowling at her son once more, she looked to Jared and softened her gaze. “Jared,” she began patiently, like she was speaking to a child who didn’t know any better, “Wowakan is a small town and we look after our own. That includes y’all too,” she smiled taking in the two boys spooning up the last of their ice cream. “When someone is in need, the whole community comes together to help out. All you had to do was ask.”

“No, Momma Ackles. I can’t ask the townspeople to help me fix my house. People have their own lives to worry about. They don’t need to be working on some stranger’s place.”

“Nonsense,” she tutted, “It’s what we do. Don’t you worry about it. I’ll handle everything and we’ll have that house in tip-top shape for when your folks come visit.” 

“Karen, can you come give me a hand?” Alex called from behind the counter where a line had started to form. The Episcopal Church held afternoon services and the creamery was the next stop for most of the members.

“Coming dear,” she sing-songed, “You boys be good.” She dropped a kiss to the crown of Jared’s head and petted over the twins’ before pecking Jensen lightly on the cheek. “I’ll take care of everything, Jared.” She hurried to the counter to help her husband and Erin prepare the customer orders. “Free cherries for everyone,” she laughed when Alex playfully goosed her as he walked by.

“She’s not serious, is she?”

Jensen pulled his eyes from his parents, a fond smile on his lips. “Cherries come on just about everything anyway. I don’t think she’s giving away the bank.” He gathered up their empty dishes, balling up napkins to be thrown away.

“No,” Jared laughed, watching the older Ackles dance around each other to _My Girl_ while making sundaes and ice cream cones. Erin tried to stay out of the way near the register, taking orders and money, a look of loving exasperation on her face. “I meant about, you know, the…help.”

Jensen stood, pushing his chair in, winking at the twins when they followed suit. “Have you _met_ my mother?” He grinned, snatched his hat from the window sill and took their dishes to the kitchen.

 

* * *

 

 

“Teddy, start running a bath and Benji get out some pajamas and clean underwear. I’ll be up in a minute to help. I just want to say good night to Deputy Ackles.” Jared called after the two forms, dragging their way up the stairs. He chuckled at them and shook his head, turning his attention back to the man beside him. “They’re worn out.”

“Looks like,” Jensen followed the boys’ progress up the stairs.

After ice cream, Jensen took the boys over to a small park near the center of town. A few years back, the Ladies’ Auxiliary in Plymouth had sponsored the renovation of their children’s playground, making it the envy of the tri-county area. Not to be outdone, the Wowakan Ladies’ Auxiliary had plans drawn up for a larger and more modern play place and funded it by conducting several cake auctions and numerous bake sales. The construction was completed a few months before and Jensen had to admit that it was pretty impressive. The twins crawled, climbed, swung and slid over every piece of newly installed equipment for the better part of an hour while Jensen and Jared sat on one of the benches – made from recycled plastic because ‘Wowakan is a community concerned about the environment’ – surrounding the perimeter of the rubber mulched area. When the ladder scaling slowed and the swinging lazed, Jared and Jensen herded the tired boys into the car, smiling knowingly at the chorus of yawns that emanated from the back seat. 

“Thank you,” Jared said softly, “It was nice to get out of the house and the park was good for the kids.”

“Anytime, Jared,” Jensen gazed at Jared sincerely, “I had fun today. I liked seeing the town through the twins’ eyes – the parlor and the park. Reminded me of how great it was growing up here.”

“ _I want the baseball ones, Benji_.” Jared turned his head, one eye narrowed as he listened to the exchange upstairs to decide if his intervention was going to be needed. The twins were normally excellent to each other, but they were still brothers.

“ _You wore the baseball ones last time, Teddy. I gets to wear them this time. You can haves the football ones or the dump trucks_.” Jared shifted a step closer to the stairs, waiting for his cue.

“ _Are the space ones clean_?”

There was the squeak of drawers being opened. “ _Yep!_ ”

“ _Okay_ ,” Teddy replied, appeased. 

Jared rolled his eyes and spun back to Jensen. “Sorry about that. I guess I…” Jensen had apparently moved with Jared and when he turned they were now standing nose to nose, “should buy two of everything.” He spoke slowly, mesmerized by Jensen’s familiar eyes and smell. Jensen never wore cologne, unlike Timothy who practically bathed in Obsession each day, so his smell was a unique combination of soap and warm musk that was unique to Jensen as far as Jared had been able to find. He inhaled deep, his eyes falling shut of their own volition and a small smile danced at the corners of his mouth. He’d missed Jensen – his smell, his laugh, his sly wit. 

“Jared,” Jensen breathed, nuzzling the younger man’s nose with his own. He wanted to kiss Jared, had from the moment he’d seen him at Collins’ store, and now their lips were almost touching, exhales ghosting over the sensitive flesh. His hand came up unconsciously, fitting to the sharp curve of Jared’s hip.

Jared’s heart was hammering in his chest. He wanted this, wanted Jensen. For the first time in what seemed like forever, he felt that fire of desire, of want. He swayed forward into the warmth, the promise of love and passion being panted against his mouth. All it would take is a touch, whisper light and feather soft, for everything to consume him. Just the barest…

A splash and giggle from upstairs and Jared froze, eyes blinking open.

 He could feel the coarse fabric of Jensen’s shirt fisted in his right hand, completely unaware he had grabbed it, and the hard press of his need against the confines of his jeans. “Jensen,” he looked into green eyes and his heart felt heavy at the resignation and acceptance he found there, “I can’t do this. It’s not just me anymore. I,” he stepped back, hand unclenching and smoothing over flannel to rest on Jensen’s chest, “I have the boys to think about. They have to come first.” He bit his bottom lip. “I’m sorry.”

Jensen chuckled mirthlessly and nodded. “I understand,” he murmured and, at Jared’s skeptical look, continued stronger, “I do.” He moved back and put a little more distance between them, the temptation still too strong, “They’re your children, Jared. They should come first. Nothing says we can’t be friends. We’ll just be keep things the way they are now.”

“Yeah, friends,” Jared ran a hand through his hair and stared at his feet. 

“Good,” Jensen rubbed a hand over the back of his neck, “You work all week, right?”

“Eight to three, Monday through Friday,” Jared smiled, excited about being behind a camera again.

“Why don’t I come by next Saturday and we’ll get started on painting the inside rooms. No sense stripping the floors until the walls are done in case you splatter paint on them.” He teased, reminding both of them of painting Jared’s apartment in Savannah. Jared’d ended up with more paint on him than on the walls.

“Very funny, Deputy,” Jared’s lips twitched with the effort of containing his smile. His eyes turned shrewd. “Okay, only on one condition.”

“What’s that?” Jensen asked suspiciously.

“Well, you said you were still shit at cooking. You let me make you dinner during the week and I’ll let you help me on the weekends. You don’t starve and I get free labor.” He shoved his hands in his pockets, rocking back and forth on the balls of his feet, obviously proud of the deal he’d brokered.

“Sounds like a win-win all around,” Jensen grinned and extended his hand, “agreed.”

“Agreed,” Jared confirmed, shaking Jensen’s hand and allowing the touch to linger longer than he knew he should.

“Daddy! We’re ready for our hair,” a shrill voice echoed down the stairs.

“Coming Benji-boy,” Jared called back. “I should, um, I should go. Last time I let them do it, shampoo ended up on the ceiling.”

“Okay,” Jensen moved to the front door, followed by Jared. Opening it, he looked over his shoulder, “Good night, Jared.”

Holding the door open, Jared leaned against it, “Good night, Deputy.” He waited until Jensen was in his car, then shut the door and turned out the porch light. He pressed his head to the cool glass set in the door and closed his eyes, breathing deep. 

_Friends_. 

“Daddy!”

“Coming!” He swallowed down the heartache and climbed the stairs.


	7. Chapter 7

Jensen opened the door to Fire Water and was greeted by the sound of Chris’ voice booming through the large speakers that hung in the four corners of the bar. “Test. Test. 1,2,3,4. Test. Jenny!”

He peered past the heavily occupied room to see Chris and Steve on the elevated stage, the former checking the microphones and the latter arranging their instruments and running wires. He flipped a bird in their general direction, their low chuckles vibrating the woofers in response, and made his way to the bar. 

“Hey, Jensen. What can I getcha?” Joseph hunched over the bar to hear and be heard over the din of the crowded bar. 

“Just a beer,” Jensen turned and leaned back against the bar, elbows resting on the polished wood, surveying the crowd. He twisted around at the heavy thunk of a bottle hitting the bar and nodded his thanks to Joseph. “Good turnout,” he took a pull from his beer and handed his hat over for safe keeping behind the bar.

“Yeah, usually is when Chris and Steve play.” Friday nights were normally busy, but the marquis above the door promising a performance by Steve and Chris had the small bar pushing capacity. “Haven’t seen you all week, Jen. You been keeping outta trouble?”

Jensen lifted the bottle to his lips again when a large hand slapped him firmly on the back, jostling his body and causing him to dribble beer over his chin. “Jenny! I thought you didn’t love us anymore,” Steve circled the end of the bar, grabbing two beers from the cooler. He removed the caps and handed one to Chris.

“Ass,” Jensen snarked, taking the napkin Joseph held out for him to mop the beer from his face. “You wonder why I choose quiet dinners with Jared and the twins over being abused by you morons.” Balling up the damp napkin, he tossed it into the garbage can near the register. 

“Yeah, I’m sure it has nothing to do with Jared being a phenomenal cook,” Chris dug a finger into Jensen’s midsection, causing the younger man to squirm away.

“Or the fact, that according to Sandy McCoy, he has an ass you can bounce a nickel off of,” Steve laughed, looking toward the door as it opened. He made it a habit to try and put eyes on each new arrival as they entered.  Wowakan’s population was comprised of nice people that normally didn’t raise a fuss, but Fire Water was a popular watering hole for the surrounding communities as well, and sometimes it attracted a less than savory element.  Years of working honky-tonks and roadhouses had honed his instincts to the point that he could tell practically on sight which patrons were there looking for a good time and which were there looking for trouble. Tilting his head to the side, Steve closed his eyes in a bid of patience then shook it disbelievingly. “Ah, shit.”

“What?” Chris lifted from his stool enough to see the entrance, his face contorting into a scowl as he dropped back down. “Fuck, it’s Ed. Don’t worry. Jensen took care of it,” he raised his eyebrow toward his friend in challenge, “Right, Jenny?”

“What’s going on?” Joseph slung the rag he’d been cleaning the bar with over his shoulder, rolling to the balls of his feet to see over the crowd.

“Jensen here got drunk one night, got stupid and got laid,” Chris slapped him hard on the shoulder, “Now, he’s got himself an admirer.”

Joseph pulled a face, “Ed? Ed?” His eyes went round with realization, “Shit. Ed Westwick? I went to high school with that guy. He’s – he’s fucking certifiable.”

“Yep and now he has his sights on our boy, Jenny,” Steve leaned back against the counter behind the bar, legs crossed at the ankles and arms folded across his stomach, “You know, I heard him tell Misha’s wife, Vicky, that he thought you were going to ask him to move in soon.”

“What?” Jensen choked on his next gulp of beer, splattering the liquid over Joseph’s newly wiped counter.

“Jensen, you gotta do something, man,” Joseph’s eyes were wide and pleading as he mopped up the bar again, “Trust me, I’ve seen it before. Ed’s really bad news.  There was this kid I was friends with in high school that used to be nice to him. Talked to him in passing, waved to him…that kind of thing. Trent was just that type of person, you know, friendly to everyone and their cat. Well, Ed started following the guy around. Everywhere Trent went, Ed would show up. At first, no one really thought too much about it. I mean, hell, it’s a small town. There aren’t too many places to go, but it happened so often that it couldn’t be a coincidence. One night, Ed kissed Trent and Trent, being the nice guy that he was, let Ed down easy. Told him that Ed was great and all, but that he preferred girls and hoped they could still be friends.”

“That doesn’t seem so bad,” Steve glanced over the crowd to make sure everyone was behaving themself.

“Here, JG.” Kristen, one of Fire Water’s waitresses, handed Joseph a table’s drink order then slipped back into the crowd to see if anyone else wanted something. 

Joseph continued talking as he laid out five glasses, filled them with ice and pulled liquor bottles from the back shelves. “That’s what Trent told him. What Ed took away from it was he needed to try harder. So he upped the ante from following Trent to outright stalking him. Trent couldn’t turn around without Ed being there. He ran off any girls that Trent tried to date and told everyone and their brother that they were a couple, including Trent’s Southern Baptist grandmother. Damn near gave the old lady a heart attack,” Joseph did a running pour of Jack Daniels over three glasses and added Jose Cuervo to the remaining two tumblers the same way. “It got so bad that finally Trent’s parents decided to move.”

“Move?” Jensen’s eyebrow shot up. “That seems pretty extreme. Why didn’t they get the police involved?”

“They tried, but Ed was too smart. He was always careful to keep everything he was doing within the confines of the law. Your granddaddy told Trent’s parents that he couldn’t arrest the boy for acting like a lovesick puppy, but would take matters in hand if Ed ever stepped over the line.” Joseph set the drinks on a tray and handed it over to Kristen when she came by, taking her empty one in trade. A blur of blonde, there and gone.

“But he never did?”  Chris shot a worried look around to see if Ed had spotted Jensen yet.  

“Nope,” Joseph shook his head, “At the end of the year, Trent’s family just up and moved, decided it was best all around. Ask Penn about it, he knows. We were both friends with Trent.”

“Shit,” Steve groaned, exchanging a weighted glance with Chris, both wondering if Jensen knew what his dick had gotten him into.

“Jensen,” Chris tone was serious, all kidding forgotten in light of this newest bit of information, “I know he’s a kid and you don’t want to hurt him, but this has got to stop now. He’s delusional,” Joseph nodded his head in agreement, “This has the makings of one of those real life murder shows written all over it. I really don’t want you to be the subject of the next _48 Hours_ special.”

“Fuck!” Jensen scrubbed a hand over his face, “Suggestions?”

“Be brutal,” Steve answered, “It’s the only way to get through to him. If you’re nice at all, his mind will latch on that there is a chance.”

“Here he comes,” Joseph sing-songed, acknowledging a middle aged man down the bar signaling for another drink. “Good luck,” he murmured, leaving to satisfy the customer.

“Jensey baby.” A thin arm wrapped around Jensen’s shoulders and he shuddered at the unwanted puff of warm breath across his neck.

“Ed,” Jensen tipped his bottle to the side to check the amount left in it and pointedly tried to ignore Chris mouthing ‘Jensey baby’ to Steve.

“You haven’t called or come by to see me. If I didn’t know better I’d think you were avoiding me,” Ed ran the tip of his finger up Jensen’s arm, over the round of his shoulder and traced the collar of his shirt.

Shrugging the molested shoulder, keeping Ed’s questing finger from moving further, Jensen swallowed the last bit of beer from his bottle and got to his feet. “Avoiding you would mean that I’ve thought about you, which I obviously haven’t. I’ve been busy.” He pulled his wallet from his back pocket, flipping through the contents.

“You’ve got time now,” Ed purred, placing his hand on Jensen’s vacated chair and leaning closer. “We could have a drink and see where the night takes us. Maybe go back to your place and relive good times?”

“Dude! What ‘good times’? It was one night.” Jensen slapped a ten on the bar and slid it over to Joseph, motioning for his hat. “Keep the change, JG. Chris, Steve, I’ll see you tomorrow?”

“Oh, yeah,” Chris chuckled, “I’m not gonna incur the wrath of Karen Ackles. We’ll probably be out around ten or so.” 

“Awesome,” Jensen smiled at Joseph, “Hey, JG, Penn’s gonna be there. If you’re feeling up to it, why don’t you come by and see if you can lend a hand?”

Joseph blushed furiously and rolled his eyes, setting Jensen’s white Stetson on the counter, “We’ll see.”

“Suit yourself,” Jensen winked. Spinning on his heel, he came up short when he noticed Ed was still standing beside him. 

“You having a party or something, Jensen?”  Ed’s eyes were slightly narrowed and his lips were pursed. “My invitation must have gotten lost.”

“It’s not a party,” Jensen huffed, “A bunch of us are going to Jared’s to help him work on the house.”

Ed looked confused for a minute, “The guy from the diner? The one with the rugrats?”

Jensen bristled, “Yes, Jared, my friend from the diner and his two sons.” He snatched his hat from the bar, “Now, if you’ll excuse me.” 

“Is this the Jared who you’ve been _busy_ with?” Ed stopped him with a thin, pale hand to his chest, his face pinched with hurt and jealousy. “Jensen, I’m really getting the feeling that you’re not committed to our relationship.”

Jensen stood stunned. _Relationship_? In the years since Jared, Jensen had become something of a serial one night stander and made sure that his hook-ups knew going in that long-term just wasn’t in the stars, but every once in a while one would think that they could change him. Usually it only took a few brush-offs for them to understand that Jensen was a man of his word. Even after what Joseph had told him, he didn’t really want to believe that Ed was still the same person that had stalked a boy until he was forced to leave town. But, apparently, Ed hadn’t changed. Behind him, he could hear Chris coughing the word ‘brutal’ into his hand and he caught a glimpse of Joseph’s knowing eyes.

“ _Relationship_? There is no _relationship_! It. Was. Only. One. Night,” Jensen growled the words, refusing to be Trent in Ed’s newest delusion, “I’ve made longer commitments to cold medicine. Look, Ed,” he scrubbed a hand down his face in frustration, “you’re a nice guy and the sex was good, but I’m not the settling down type. If that’s what you’re looking for, you’ve hitched your wagon to the wrong star.” “But, I thought you loved me,” Ed whispered, looking at him with watery eyes, and Jensen reeled back wondering when exactly his life turned into an episode of _Gossip Girl_.

“Loved you?” Jensen repeated loudly, shocked. This guy needed professional help! Another cough around the word ‘brutal’ caught his attention and his eyes flicked up to see that their little conversation was garnering too much attention from the other patrons. Lowering his voice, he went in for the death blow. “Dude, I’ve only loved one person in my life and it didn’t happen after a one night romp in the sheets. You were nothing more to me than a good time to be had. _Had_ , as in past tense. I never saw you as more than that and I’m not sure where you got the impression that I did.” He seated his hat on his head. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to get home.” Nodding a good-bye toward his friends, Jensen forced his way through the crowd to the door.

Ed stood still watching Jensen’s retreating back. He turned to see Chris, Steve and Joseph staring at him, a blush stealing across his features when he realized they’d witnessed the exchange. Ducking his head, he made his way to the door, stepping out onto the street in time to see the taillights of Jensen’s black Impala disappear at the next corner. Eyes narrowing at the flash of red, Ed set his jaw, mind turning over plans and possibilities as he walked home.

 

“Wow,” Steve whistled, chucking his empty beer bottle in the recycling container under the bar, “I didn’t know Jensen had it in him.”

“It needed to be done,” Joseph shook his head, uncapping a beer for a man who’d slid onto Jensen’s vacant barstool. “Hey, um, I know it’s not any of my business, but, uh,” Joseph ducked his head and rubbed the back of his neck, “when Jensen said he’d only been in love once...It was Jared, right?”

“Oh, yeah,” Chris chuckled humorlessly, draining the last swallow in his bottle, “and he was right, it didn’t happen after the first time they slept together.” He stared at the brown bottle in his hand, “No, it was before that. Jensen was gone after their first date.” ****  
  



	8. Interlude - Feels Like the First Time

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jensen and Jared's first date

Jensen climbed the stairs, butterflies fluttering in his stomach with each step he scaled. When he finally felt human after the hangover from hell, Jensen called Jared and officially – soberly – asked him out on a date. It had taken two weeks to get their schedules to coincide and tonight they were, finally, going on their first date. He couldn’t understand the sudden burst of nerves. They’d talked on the phone practically every night and texted throughout the day, but something about actually seeing the man again had Jensen absolutely giddy. It was so bad that Chris offered to finish their end of shift paperwork just to get a reprieve.

Smoothing a hand down his button-up shirt and tugging on his belt buckle to make sure it was straight, Jensen blew out a calming breath and knocked on the door. Twenty thundering heartbeats later, the door was yanked open to reveal a half-naked Chad.

“Why is it every time I come by here, you’re only half dressed?” Jensen quirked an eyebrow when a tall, handsome man sidled up behind Jared’s roommate and slipped his arms around Chad’s waist.

“Because every time I’m about to get laid, you come by,” Chad snarked back.

“Touché,” Jensen acknowledged with a tilt of his head, “Jared home? We have a date.”

“Yeah, I know. I’ve only heard about it every day for the last week. Princess is touching up his make-up,” Chad braced his arm on the doorjamb, blocking Jensen’s entrance, and leveled him with a steely gaze. It would have been intimidating if not for the man behind him licking his neck, Chad angling his head to the side to give the guy more room.

Jensen sighed, “Is this where you give me the ‘you hurt him, I’ll have your balls’ speech?”

“Listen, Jenny,” Chad crossed his arms over his exposed chest, “I’m a lover, not a fighter.” The guy wrapped around him paused in his oral assault to murmur ‘damn right’ before returning his attention to the column of flesh. Jensen shuddered, violently reminded of a mother cat cleaning a kitten. “But Jared’s my boy and I’m a devious motherfucker. Understand?”

Cat Guy pulled back and stared at Chad’s profile. “I thought I was your boy?”

Chad patted the forearms encircling his waist. “Different kind of boy,” he offered consolingly in way of explanation. Cat Guy was apparently appeased and the tongue bath resumed. “So, we on the same page, Jenny?”

“As long as you never call me Jenny again, _Chaddy_ ,” Jensen answered with a tight smile. Cat Guy was now Hoovering a mark near Chad’s pulse point and Jensen’s smile turned into a grimace. Hoover the Cat Guy. 

“Chad, was that the door?”

Jensen looked past the wall of flesh and muscle barring his entry to see Jared standing in the doorway to his bedroom. He remembered that Jared was good looking – fucking hot in his work outfit – but now he seemed even more handsome. He was in a dark pair of jeans that snugged against his body in all the right places and a dark blue pullover that hugged his torso to hint at the body underneath, scuffed brown boots were worn from practicality not pretentiousness.  The icing on top of this particularly decadent beefcake was the wide, dimpled smile that appeared when Jared saw him. 

“Jensen!” Jared crossed to the door and shouldered Chad and Hoover the Cat Guy to the side. “Chad, what are you doing?”

“Just having a little convo with your new boytoy here, Jaybird.” Chad unfolded his arms, reaching out to pat Jensen on the chest. “Right, Jenny?”

“Sure, Chaddy,” Jensen looked down at the hand on his chest and spared a thought about where it had been, stepping out of the touch. “Jared, you ready to go?”

“Yeah, just let me get,” Jared leaned over to his right, his arm tugging on something just out of Jensen’s view, “my jacket.” He slapped a hand on Chad’s bare shoulder, on the side unoccupied by Hoover’s tongue, the resounding smack echoing in the hallway. “Y’all have fun.”

The only answer he got was a smirk, right before Chad shut the door. Chuckling, Jared stared at the door before he shook his head. “Ready?”

Nodding, Jensen motioned with his hand for Jared to lead the way. “That was mildly disturbing.”

“What’s that? Chad?” Jared slid into his jacket, his watch catching on the arm hole. 

 Jensen stopped him with a hand on his shoulder and helped him work his arm into the sleeve. “Yes, but I was referring more to Hoover’s licking.”

Jared blinked, “Hoover?”

“Oh, yeah,” Jensen rubbed the back of his neck and looked sheepish. He flapped his other hand in the direction of the closed door, “um, Hoover the Cat Guy?”

Jared’s head dropped back as his booming laughter rang out, loud and joyous.  He clapped his hands a few times as it died away. “Oh, God. That’s awesome.”

“Well, I wasn’t formally introduced and he reminded me of a mother cat grooming a kitten,” he mumbled embarrassed, laying a hand low on Jared’s back to usher them toward the stairs.

“You should try eating while he’s doing it. I don’t think I’ve finished my breakfast all week.” Jared wiped a tear from his eye.

“I didn’t realize that Chad was into guys. I mean his ex-girlfriend was the reason we met.” They moved to the side at the second floor landing to allow a couple of co-eds to pass, exchanging a quick greeting.

“He says it would be a travesty to deny half the population his awesomeness. Usually his preferences depend on how his last relationship ended. Since Janie went crazy, he’s off girls for a while. When things go south with Hoover, he’ll be back to the fairer sex.” Jared opened the door at the main entrance to the apartment building, holding it after Jensen exited for a girl with bubble gum pink hair carrying a large blank canvas. “So, where we going?”

“The Pirate’s House okay? I thought we could walk.”

“That’s perfect. You know, I’ve lived here for three years and never been?” He bumped Jensen’s shoulder.

“Really? It’s my sister Dakota’s favorite. Every time the family comes, we go there to eat.” They paused to let a delivery man carrying boxes into a boutique pass in front of them.

“My dad is partial to Mrs. Wilkes’ so we usually end up there. I’m just glad you didn’t want to go The Lady and Sons. My last three dates have taken me there.” Jared pulled a face as they started walking again, coming up on Oglethorpe Square. 

“Not a fan of Paula Deen?” Jensen gasped in mock horror. “I didn’t think they’d let you live in Savannah and not bow down to the domestic goddess.”

Jared laughed and, honestly, Jensen didn’t care what he had to do as long as that was his reward.

“Shhh,” Jared hissed, leaning over to whisper conspiratorially in Jensen’s ear, “I’m part of the resistance. If they discover who I am, they’ll try to recondition me with forced feedings of butter and mayonnaise.” He chuckled, straightening up and voice returning to its normal timbre. “Besides, my momma’s cooking is better than hers.”

“Spoken like a true momma’s boy,” Jensen nudged Jared’s ribs with his elbow. 

Up ahead, Oglethorpe Square was littered with white tents, walls made up of white wire grid displays lining three sides of each tent. When Oglethorpe settled Savannah the original plans included 24 ‘squares’, dispersed at equal intervals throughout the city, to be used primarily by the people for communal activities. Over two and half centuries later, the little patches of green amidst the concrete jungle that built up around them were still used in much the same fashion. On any given weekend it wasn’t uncommon to pass a wedding, an art show and a sorority reunion, all within a 10 block stroll. Jensen squinted to try and make out what type of show had rented the area for the weekend.

“Hey,” Jared squawked, “takes one to know one. I remember a guy waxing poetic last week about his momma’s apple pie and how nobody’s can compare.”

“Never said I wasn’t,” Jensen could see frames hanging from the display walls, “What’s going on up there?”

“SCAD show,” Jared shrugged, “Students showing off their end of the year projects.”

Jensen looked down at his watch, considering. “We’ve got a few minutes before our reservation. You wanna wander through real quick? Show me what you artsy types are working on?”

“Yeah, sure.”

They walked through the narrow aisles, entering each booth to view the works on display. Jensen pointed out the pieces he liked, commenting on the style or asking questions about the medium. It was in the last booth that he stood transfixed at the artist’s offerings. Jared lagged behind, dallying at the entrance to watch Jensen’s reactions. 

Long, thick fingers drifted toward the glass of a framed photograph as if wanting to touch the image inside – an alligator sunning itself on the bank of a river, its dark, leathery hide contrasting with the verdant green of the grass, sun reflecting off the reptile’s scales and the murky water.  Eyes darted to another photograph, hanging above and to the right of the alligator, and Jared grinned at the sharp intake of breath. This one was a bald eagle perched majestically on the gnarled curl of a fallen limb against the backdrop of an American flag.   The azure field was sharp and bright, stripes vibrant, and the eagle’s snowy hood was starkly outlined by the horizontal swatch of red. Finger pads petted over the bird’s head and back and Jensen’s face looked surprised to not feel the feathers. The last photograph of the grouping had a large red ribbon hanging from the lower right corner of the frame, gold letters embossed on the satin tail: Best In Show. Jensen was frozen in front of the picture, fingers not edging forward to touch and eyes wide and stationary. Jared stepped closer, worried at the blank look on Jensen’s face.

Jared’s eyes flicked to the object of Jensen’s unaffected gaze. The photograph was the largest of the trio, matted simply in indigo behind non-glare glass and nestled in the confines of a light oak frame. The small, white title card identified it as “Pollux Wept” and compared to the other pictures, this one was subdued. Heavily stacked thunderclouds blanketed the sky over a tumultuous sea. The ocean’s color darkened as it raced to the horizon, pale verdigris morphing into midnight blue. Sea foam, frothed from the waves breaking over hidden sandbars, floated on the water’s surface and sinister shaped shadows glided underneath. 

“Wow.”

The soft word startled Jared, having lost himself in his own contemplation of the picture. “You like it?”

“It’s,” Jensen seemed to struggle for words, mouth mutely opening several times before settling on, “incredible. They all are.” He gestured to the two previous pictures.

Jared let out a quiet breath.  Tension he hadn’t noticed creeping up on him, relaxed.  He smiled when bright green eyes turned to him. 

“Who took…” Jensen gaze dropped to the title card, stunned to see JT Padalecki as the submitting student. “God, Jared, these are fantastic. You’re…you’re awesome!”

Jared shrugged off the compliment. “Chad’s folks paid for us to take a cruise for Spring Break, I think it was their way of thanking me for not killing their only child over the years. The alligator and eagle were pit stops along the way to and from Port Canaveral. Chad’s my best friend and all but five hours in the car with him tried even my patience. Pollux was taken at one of the islands in the Caribbean.”

Jensen’s eyes volleyed from Jared to the pictures. “The lighthouse in your bedroom, you took that one too.”

“Yeah, did that one right after I moved here.” Bells from a local church tolled the hour, the resonant chimes vibrating the warm summer air and scattering birds from the surrounding trees. “What time was our reservation?”

Pulling his gaze from the pictures, Jensen glanced down at his watch. “Oh, crap. In ten minutes. If we book it, we might just make it.” 

They hurried through the streets of historic Savannah, sidestepping locals on their way home from work and tourists looking for a good bar, and reached the podium right on time.  The Pirate’s House was popular with vacationers and even though Jensen was sure that the restaurant had a courtesy grace period for late arrivals, he didn’t want to chance them giving his reserved table away. The hostess smiled indulgently and led them to a booth near the back. After their orders were taken, Jensen broached the subject of Jared’s photography again.

“So,” Jensen moved the card detailing the drink specials to the end of the table, “what got you into photography?”

“My grandfather, actually,” Jared smiled, peeling the paper ring from around his silverware. “He loved to take pictures, told me that pictures capture the moments we don’t want to forget. When I was six I came down with the chicken pox and he stayed with me. He brought his camera and showed me how to use it and about the lenses. It became our thing. That Christmas he bought me a cheap 35 millimeter camera and I was hooked. By the time I was ten, I knew that I wanted to be a photographer.” He smiled at the waitress when she brought their sweet teas. “Grandpa’s the reason I was able to attend SCAD.” He took a sip from his glass, “He passed away my junior year of high school.” Jared’s voice was subdued, acceptance of a painful memory not forgotten evident in the tone. “At the funeral, I was sitting in the front row turning his camera over in my hands and watching my grandmother beside his casket. Her hand was resting on the lid and she was whispering her good-byes, telling him she loved him and that she would see him soon.” Jared slicked his fingers through the condensation on his glass, tracing patterns in the beaded sweat and staring unfocused at a button on Jensen’s shirt. “It was the first time I understood what love really was and I wanted to remember that feeling so I would know when it happened to me.” He shook his head and blinked a few times, eyes meeting Jensen’s with a small smile. “On impulse, I snapped a photo of my grandma. During my senior year, my mother submitted it in a scholarship contest sponsored by Kodak. It won and here I am.” 

They sat in silence for a moment, finally broken by Jared’s low chuckle. “Wow, what an uplifting conversationalist I turned out to be. I keep this up our second date will be at group therapy.” He took another sip of his tea and blew out a long breath, wiping his damp hand on his jeans. “So” Jared threw around, searching for an up-beat change of topic, “how did you end up in law enforcement? NYPD Blue make it too sexy to refuse?” 

“Funny enough, it was my Papaw,” Jensen huffed a laugh, moving his drink to the side so the waitress had room to set down their appetizer, “He’s the sheriff back home and I spent my entire life wanting to be him.” He held out his hand for Jared’s plate, piling a healthy portion of calamari on it before dishing some for himself.

 “Wow, he must be so proud of you,” Jared moaned at the first bite of the fried squid, the light breading perfectly accentuating the taste of the cephalopod. “ ‘S good.”

Jensen smiled at Jared’s reaction, happy he’d made a good choice, “He seems to be. He’s been talking a lot about retiring lately.” He popped a ring in his mouth and let out a little groan of his own. The kitchen staff had outdone themselves.

“Ackles?”

Jensen’s groan this time was more painful than orgasmic when a tall man stepped up to the end of their booth. Setting his fork down and wiping his mouth on his napkin, Jensen gave the newcomer a tight smile, extending his hand. “Olyphant. Good to see you again.” 

“Likewise,” Timothy shook Jensen proffered hand, his eyes focused on Jared, “Who’s your stunning dinner companion?”

Jensen gritted his teeth. It had been like this since college, one always trying to steal away the others dates. Except this time, Jensen wasn’t going to let Timothy near Jared. “Timothy,” he forced the man’s first name past his lips, “this is Jared Padalecki. He’s a student at SCAD,” Jensen hand covered Jared’s resting on the table, sighing internally in relief when Jared beamed at him in return, “Jared, this is Timothy Olypant. We went to Mercer together.”

“Nice to meet you,” Jared set his fork down to shake hands with Timothy, allowing the hand in Jensen’s warm grip to remain there.

“Pleasure’s all mine, I assure you,” Timothy answered, his Georgia drawl thickening in honeyed sweetness.

Jensen saw Jared’s smile falter slightly and noticed that Timothy hadn’t released Jared’s hand. Jared tugged lightly and the other man finally relinquished his hold after one last gentle squeeze. Uncertain hazel eyes turned to him and Jensen tried to smile reassuringly.

“Olyphant,” Jensen cleared his throat to recapture the intruder’s gaze, “if you don’t mind, we’d like to finish our dinner. You and I can catch up another time, okay?”

“Of course. It was very nice to meet you, Jared,” he smiled at Jared then nodded to Jensen. “Ackles.” 

“Olyphant.”

“He seemed…friendly,” Jared picked his fork up again once Timothy was out of earshot.

“Yeah, so he seemed,” Jensen frowned, suspiciously watching the other man walk to a table on the other side of the dining room. Something squeezed his hand and he looked over to find Jared eyeing him curiously.

“Everything okay?”

“Yeah,” Jensen rubbed his thumb over the back of Jared’s hand, “Everything’s perfect.”

They finished their dinner without any further interruption and walked the humid streets, Jensen telling Jared about his work and Jared recounting the many antics of living with Chad. An air conditioned breeze ghosted over their faces as they passed a well-lit storefront, the entrance held open by a line of people waiting to get in. Jared beamed when Jensen tugged them into queue at the end of the line. Thirty minutes later, they walked out of Leopold’s with double scooped ice cream cones, already dripping sticky-sweet trails of sweat around their wrists as they futilely tried to race the balmy summer air to eat the dessert before it melted.

“I might be in love with you,” Jared sighed happily, lips and tongue coated in smears of strawberry ice cream. 

“Wow, who knew you were so easy? I would’ve just brought you here and skipped dinner.” Jensen watched enraptured as Jared licked a long stripe up his wrist and over his cone, catching a wayward pink rivulet of sweet milk as it trickled down. 

Seeing Jensen staring at him, Jared flushed in embarrassment. “Sorry,” he mumbled, ducking his head and dabbing his chin with the napkin clutched in his other hand. “Peter Pan complex. Never really grew up. Momma and Daddy always said they couldn’t take me anywhere.”

“You’re adorable,” Jensen chuckled, uttering the first thing that came to mind, glad that Jared hadn’t noticed how heated his glance had been. Realizing what he’d said, he quickly amended, “In a totally manly sort of way.”

“Well, thank God,” Jared laughed, his eyes warm and soft as they regarded Jensen, “Hate to have my manhood called into question.”

Jensen ran an appreciative gaze over Jared’s body, “Trust me, I have no questions about your manhood.” Shaking his head at the suggestively derailed route their conversation had taken, Jensen quickly backtracked. “Sorry, that was…”

“Don’t worry about it, Jensen,” Jared tucked his napkin between the fingers holding his cone and entwined his now free, and mostly clean, hand in Jensen’s, swinging gently at his side. “Glad you noticed,” he winked before licking his ice cream again.

Noticed?! Jensen nearly said the word out loud. He didn’t think it was possible to notice anyone more than he had Jared. Just having the tiny bit of contact their threaded fingers allowed him, had his body humming. After a few moments of silence, he finally got his throat to work. “Yeah, Jared. I’ve _noticed_.”

They walked in silence, both concentrating on eating their dessert without wearing too much of it. They passed Oglethorpe Square, the tents flaps tied down on the booths, the art removed for safekeeping overnight. Down to the cones, they walked by the boutique that had received a new shipment earlier and stopped in front of Jared’s apartment building as they ate the last bites, tossing their napkins in the garbage can near the entrance. 

Jared fumbled with his keys, the door opening on the third attempt to slot the ridged metal in the lock, and they ascended the stairs to Jared’s apartment. The first moments of awkwardness crept in as they stood before Jared’s door, Jensen’s hands tucked in his pockets to curb the impulsive desire to reach over and pull Jared into a kiss while Jared played with the keys on his ring, the gentle tickling of metal on metal the only sound in the deserted hallway. 

“I had a really great time tonight, Jensen,” Jared said softly, weight shifting from foot to foot.

“Me, too,” Jensen replied just as soft. 

They stood there another minute, anticipation hanging thick in the air. Jared’s sigh broke the silence as he found the correct key on the ring and slid it in the lock.

This was ridiculous. Jensen couldn’t let what could possibly be the best first date of his life end like this. “Jared.”

Jared turned, eyes round and hopeful. “Yeah?”

A loud bang on the door startled them both and was followed by a loud voice, “Just fucking kiss him already, you big pansy.”

Jensen’s nerves bubbled up his throat at Chad’s command. He smirked at Jared who was bright faced in horror. “Well, you heard the man.” Jensen’s hand reached up and cupped the back of Jared’s neck, tugging him down until their lips met. Warm flesh pressed warm flesh and Jensen’s body trilled at the feel. Large hands formed over his hips, urging him closer, further into Jared’s body. Jensen tilted his head more to the side and felt Jared instinctively mimic the motion, providing them a better angle to deepen the kiss. It was like they’d been doing this for years, no mistimed motions or odd bumping of noses. His tongue licked over Jared’s bottom lip, seeking and receiving permission, and he moaned at the lingering taste of burnt sugar and strawberry he found on Jared’s lips and tongue.

The hand on Jared’s neck slid up the smooth skin to entangle in the chestnut locks he’d been dying to get his hands on since first meeting the young man, his other palm spread possessively across Jared’s back. Jared’s hands on his hips moved to the base of his spine, skirting the hem of his jeans, then ventured further on divergent paths, the left trekking north to lay warm and gentle at the nape of his neck and the right heading south to rest on the uppermost swell of his ass, fingers releasing his keys as they scratched over denim.

The jangling thud of the keys hitting the ground roused them from their passionate embrace. They pulled apart and stared at one another, arms still surrounding each other. 

“Um, wow,” Jared breathed the word out huskily.

“I agree,” Jensen smiled, pecking another, more chaste, kiss to Jared’s lips.

“Gotta do that again, soon,” Jared returned the kiss in kind.

“Tomorrow?” Jensen kissed him again, “Pizza and a movie at my place?”

“Work at The Plank tomorrow,” Jared managed past preoccupied lips.

“Come by after?” Jensen mumbled.

“Sure?” 

“Mmm-hmmm.”

“Kay.”

The door opened abruptly and they jumped apart quickly like teenagers caught necking on the front porch.

“Do I need to get the hose? Someone’s gonna call the cops if y’all don’t stop. Either come inside or go home, dude,” Chad slammed the door.

Jensen stared at the door, stunned. 

“Guess, that’s good night then,” Jared chuckled, finding his voice first.

“Guess, so,” Jensen pulled his gaze from the door and gave Jared one last lingering kiss. “See you tomorrow?”

“Yeah.” Jared replied, hand on the knob.

“I’ll text you my address. Good night, Jared.”

“Night, Jensen.” Jared pecked him quickly on the lips then disappeared into this apartment.

Jensen leaned back against the wall and blew out a long breath. He liked Jared. A lot. He was so totally screwed. Inside the apartment, he could hear Chad’s boisterous voice.

“I didn’t mean for him to leave, dumbass. Just that people would call the police if you started fucking in the hallway.”

There was a mumble, a deep rumble that Jensen knew belonged to Jared, but he couldn’t make out the words.

“Oh. My. _God_!” Chad’s voice echoed through the paneled door, “You like douche boy. Like, really like him.” There was a loud bang and then Chad’s resounding, “Ow, motherfucker, that hurt.”

Jensen smiled as he pushed off from the wall. At least it sounded like he wasn’t the only one that was screwed. 

 


	9. Chapter 9

* * *

Jared stood at the kitchen sink, hands bathed in warm, sudsy water to the wrist and distractedly scrubbing a mixing bowl, and gazed out the window. October had turned cool, the crisp air burning nostrils and lungs on each inhale and chilling cheeks and noses with each breeze, leaving the world fresh and clean. He smiled as a cluster of leaves were caught on a blustery gust and spiraled up on a cyclonic vortex, a cyclical, undulating dance. Rinsing the bowl, Jared shook the excess water free and placed it on a spread out dishtowel lying on the counter. His fingers trailed over the smooth granite countertops, newly installed the previous weekend thanks to Chris, Steve and Jim Beaver, the hardware store owner.

It really amazed him how the community had banded together to help him wheedle down the lengthy list of repairs that the house needed. On each of the last six weekends, no less than twenty people descended on their small farm wielding paintbrushes, hammers and screwdrivers, the effort spearheaded by the vivacious and apparently difficult to say no to, Karen Ackles. She coordinated the volunteers, made sure everyone was fed and single-handedly corralled the twins so they weren’t underfoot. The interior of the house now sported new paint and refinished floors, the kitchen cabinets and countertops had been replaced and the downstairs bathroom was completely refurbished. The embarrassment he’d originally felt quickly morphed into relief when he realized that it would have taken him months to complete what they’d done in a few short weeks.

The front door thudded and, after a short pause, heavy footsteps made their way toward the kitchen. Jared tilted his head to the side, the small smile widening as he went back to his sink of soapy water. This was something that also amazed him. The free food in lieu of free labor deal he’d brokered with Jensen was still in effect. Weeknights found the four of them at the dining room table sharing a home cooked meal and stories of their day while the weekends found them covered in paint, varnish and sawdust. 

“Jared?” Jensen pushed the swinging door that separated the dining room from the kitchen, darting a searching glance inside.

“Here,” Jared answered, running the utensils he’d been washing under the tap.

“Mmmm, smells like cookies in here,” Jensen grabbed a dishtowel off the oven handle and started drying the stack of clean dishes on the counter.

“That’s good, since I baked cookies today,” Jared flicked his wet hands at Jensen, water droplets spattering Jensen’s Western shirt and face. “You sure your momma didn’t want me to bring anything else tonight?”

“Jared,” Jensen sighed, putting the mixing bowl in the bottom cabinet to the left of the stove, “half the town is going to be there tonight and everybody is bringing something. You’re fine.”

“If you say so,” Jared hooked his finger around the sink stopper and pulled it free, the foamy water gurgling as it drained, “You remember to stop and get the candy?”

“In the truck,” Jensen slid the silverware drawer shut, “Couldn’t bring it inside. Between you and TJ, there’d be none left.  Speaking of the little angels,” he frowned, listening to the unnaturally quiet house, “you have them tied up somewhere?” 

Jensen had become accustomed to Benji bum-rushing him as soon as he stepped in the door, small arms wrapped around his legs before he even had a chance to take off his hat. Gleeful shouts of ‘Uncle Jen,’ the moniker that Benji had taken upon himself to christen Jensen with, warmed his heart almost as much as the green sparkle that stared at him with excitement and affection. TJ was still warming up to him, preferring to give a more subdued welcome from the bottom of the stairs – a soft ‘Deputy’ – learned from his daddy – and shy smile. However reticent TJ seemed, Jensen was certain that the few practical jokes he’d fallen victim to were masterminded by the quieter boy. So far he’d been in the house fifteen minutes without hide nor hair of either twin, strange in a house that typically overflowed with their presence.

“Do you have any idea how much power the word ‘Halloween’ has on six-year-olds?” Jared pulled two platters from the oven piled high with vanilla frosted sugar cookies in the shape of ghosts, complete with chocolate chip eyes. “They take threats against candy very seriously.”

Jensen reached for a cookie only to have his hand slapped away. Scowling, he lunged at Jared, nimble fingers remembering time-tested tickle spots with uncanny accuracy. He spared half a moment’s thought to worry about the stretch of skin over sharp bone, before his efforts started achieving the desired result. The younger man squawked, writhing in an attempt to get away from the wiggling digits only to be stopped by the refrigerator behind him. 

“Stop, stop, stop,” Jared panted, tears streaming down his face from laughing. With a particularly limber turn, he danced away, doubling over with his hands on his knees as he tried to catch his breath through his dying chuckles.

“Oh, no you don’t!” Jensen taunted, chasing him, fingers flexing in a teasing threat.

“No!” Jared darted around to the other side of the island, face flushed in amusement. When Jensen mirrored his position on the opposite side, Jared feinted to the left then dashed to the right. Having played this game before, Jensen anticipated and caught Jared at the end of the island, arms going around the younger man’s waist and fingers digging into sensitive flesh.

“No, no, no. Deputy, don’t,” The words exploded out in machine gun bursts, laughs and surprised yelps punctuating each one.  Jared wiggled and bent and twisted, “Stop! Deputy! Don’t, don’t, don’t!” His body spasmed when Jensen found a particularly ticklish place, “Jensen!”

The onslaught stopped, Jensen’s arms around him, their breaths heaving and mingling in the small space between their faces. Jensen’s eyes were alight with mirth, clear and bright, like green glass backlit by a flame. Sweat from exertion trickled down the back of Jared’s neck, wetting the hair at his nape, as he stared mesmerized by the verdant depths. The pull was magnetic, opposite poles drawn by science and physics toward each other. 

“Daddy?”

Jared blinked, uncertain when he’d closed his eyes, and turned toward the timid voice. TJ stood framed in the entry from the hallway, wide-eyed and pale, dressed in the body suit of his Iron Man costume, the burgundy and gold mask dangling from his fingers. Behind him, Benji was already in his Captain America costume, an elastic band cutting a black swatch across his neck allowing the royal blue rubber mask to hang down his back. Unlike his brother, Benji’s eyes were narrowed and cold, a look of pure fury, so out of place on a young face, contorting his features.

“Let him go!” Benji’s voice was infused with anger and as much threat as the little boy could muster. He sidestepped around his brother, taking a protective stance in front of his sibling.

Jared disentangled himself from Jensen’s arms. “Benji!” He admonished, expression shocked at the menacing tone. Benji adored Jensen, full-out hero worshipped him, and for him to stare at his idol with such hate shook Jared to his core. “You don’t speak to adults that way. What’s the matter?”

Benji’s harsh glare softened as it drifted to his father, eyes shimmering suspiciously in the fading sunlight. “You said no. We heard you tell him to stop and he didn’t. You were crying and yelling.”

Jensen felt more than saw Jared’s shoulders slump. “Benji.” The name sounded wounded this time, raw and sorrowful. The vocalization of the failure Jared felt he’d been to his sons. 

Jensen looked at the two boys, their contrasting reactions a blinking confirmation of Jensen’s suspicions. Jason hadn’t found anything snooping into Olyphant’s background other than the man was practically destitute; his only financially stable investment Olyphant-Padalecki Originals. Now, with Jared gone, even that endeavor would quickly start running in the red. There were no records of 911 calls, police reports or CPS investigations tied to Olyphant. Standing here, there was no doubt in Jensen’s mind that the lack of data didn’t prove he was wrong about his old nemesis – just that Jared had concealed his abuse. Jensen’d been thankful that in all his years in law enforcement he’d never been forced to take another life – he’d shot several fleeing suspects, but nothing lethal. At this moment, seeing Jared weighed down by what he believed was his own shortcomings and his children’s worry that their daddy wasn’t safe, Jensen knew he could happily kill Olyphant and go to bed that night and sleep the sleep of the justified.

Jared crossed to his sons, kneeling on the floor in front of them to bring him to their eye level. “We were playing, that’s all. Deputy here was tickling me because I wouldn’t let him have a cookie. Just a tickle fight, nothing more. Like when we wrestle.” He gave them a reassuring smile, keeping his face open and honest. “I promise, he wasn’t hurting me.”

TJ looked to Benji as if waiting his decision on their daddy’s explanation. Jensen had become well aware that TJ might be the strategist of the group, but he sought out Benji when it came to judgment calls. Benji’s shrewd eyes scrutinized Jensen for a moment before turning to Jared, searching his dad’s face for signs of deception. Finally, satisfied with what he saw, Benji’s expression became sheepish and TJ, seeing the change, ducked his head as well.

“I’m sorry for talking ugly to you, Uncle Jen,” Benji said, meekly. 

“I’m sorry, too,” TJ followed his brother’s example, speaking for the first time since calling his father’s name and breaking them apart.

Jensen came forward, crouching next to Jared. “It’s okay, buddies,” he said gently, telegraphing his movements as he reached out to lay a hand on each twin’s shoulder. “I would do the same thing if I thought someone was hurting somebody I loved.” He tenderly squeezed the bone and flesh under his fingers. “Just know, I would never hurt your Dad and I would never hurt either of you.”

The house was eerily quiet after Jensen’s declaration, all four mentally digesting the last few minutes. Jared was the first to break the silence, “Okay, Mr. Stark and Captain Rogers,” he tugged TJ’s mask free from his hand and settled it over the little boy’s face, “go find your trick-or-treat buckets so we can head over to Nana and Papaw’s house.”

TJ’s body shivered with excitement, an enthusiastic squeal making its way past the mouth screen. Jensen chuckled, twisting Benji’s mask around to the front and fitting it over his eyes and nose. Properly outfitted in their superhero alter-egos, the boys ran upstairs to get the pails Sandy had made for them to use for candy.

Standing up, Jensen felt Jared’s gaze on him, regarding him with an odd expression. Feeling self-conscious, Jensen rubbed the back of his neck and nodded toward the platters of cookies on the counter. “Got any aluminum foil?”

 

* * *

 

Halloween at the Ackles’ was somewhat legendary in the Wowakan community. Hosted on Karen and Alex’s farm since Jensen was in diapers, it had grown from a hayride and bonfire for close friends and family to a full blown event attended by most of the town. Booths dotted the perimeter of the farm’s back yard, designed by local businesses holding anything from food to children’s games. The highlights were Fire Water’s haunted barn, Chris and Steve working non-stop for days to transform the Ackles’ traditional red barn into a terror riddled space for those brave of heart, and the hay maze, a favorite of amorous young couples who liked to ‘get lost’ in the stacked bales. 

Jensen parked the Impala and Jared marveled at the spectacle. Adults and kids wove between the parked vehicles dressed in a variety of costumes, all carrying covered dishes for the potluck dinner. Getting out, he could hear music blaring from speakers hidden in strategically placed haystacks and smell the wood smoke in the air. People he’d met greeted him, smiling as they hurried to the epicenter of the excitement. Smiling, Jared took a deep breath and let the atmosphere flow over him. This was what he always wanted for the twins. Not the hustle and bustle of Atlanta where neighbors never took the time to learn each other’s names, but a small town where life was laid back and the inhabitants genuinely cared. Wowakan had turned out to be everything that Jensen described that made Jared think of it first when he decided to leave, not just the idyllic vision of a beloved hometown.

“Daddy! Daddy! I see Dalton and Hunter.” TJ pointed toward Sam’s apple bobbing booth where a group of kids were standing next to several large metal basins. “Can we go?”

Nerves prickled the back of Jared’s neck, the idea of the kids being lost in the crowd, gone from sight and out of arm’s reach, forcing his breaths to come fast and shallow. 

“Jared?” Jensen’s hand on the small of his back made him jump. “You okay?” Three sets of green eyes, varying shades and sizes, stared at him curiously.  

“Yeah,” Jared scrunched his nose to show how silly he felt the question was. “Of course,” he chuckled, humorlessly. 

“The kids want to go play,” Jensen jutted his chin in the direction of Sam’s booth. “Is that okay?”

“Um,” Jared bit his lip.

Jensen leaned close and spoke directly in his ear. “All the children are together and no adult in this town would ever let anything happen to any of them. If you hold on too tight, you’ll suffocate them.”

Jared turned his head, locking gazes with the older man, trying to gauge exactly how much Jensen had guessed about his overprotectiveness. Sighing deeply, he looked down at the pleading eyes of his sons. “Stay with Dalton and Hunter and don’t go behind the barn.” Receiving two solemn nods, he shooed them off to have fun.

“Nicely done, Dad,” Jensen patted him on the arm, ducking back into the Impala to grab two grocery bags full of candy, “Besides, half the Plains County Sheriff’s Department is here tonight. I think we’ve got it covered.”

Rolling his eyes, Jared grabbed the platters of cookies from the front seat. “You realize that’s only like three people, right?”

“Sounded impressive, didn’t it?” 

They maneuvered their way through the crowd to the long buffet tables laden with a menagerie of Tupperware and Corning ware in a rainbow of colors, each filled with homemade sides and desserts. Off to the side, Alex and Jensen’s brother, Austin, manned two large smokers, bluish billows rising up from the cast iron depths carrying the savory scent of cooked meat through the cool autumn air.

Jensen hugged his father and, laughing, turned an amused eye toward his brother. “Nice costume, bro.”

Austin smoothed over his green spandex bodysuit and then adjusted the matching mask. “Don’t hate just because you couldn’t pull it off.” He poked Jensen in the ribs. Shrugging, he caught sight of his sons running across the yard, TJ and Benji in tow. Dalton’s black Batman cape and Hunter’s red Superman one flowed behind them as they went. “The boys picked it out.”

Any jokes Jensen had died on his tongue at his brother’s fond expression. Austin’s wife, Tracey, had been diagnosed with breast cancer right after Hunter was born and two years ago succumbed to her illness. Since then Austin’s life had centered around his children, the only part of her he had left. They could have asked him to come as RuPaul and he would have gladly gone out to find size 13 pumps and a blonde wig.

“Well, they did good. Guess it really is a super-hero Halloween.” Jared smoothly diverted the conversation. His brow furrowed and he tilted his head to the side, eyes concentrating on the emblem on Austin’s chest. “Didn’t I just read that The Green Lantern is gay?”

“That was Alan Scott from the comic book. I’m Hal Jordan from the movie,” Austin corrected, matter of factly.

“Jenny!” Chris yelled, making his way over with Steve, narrowly avoiding little Susie Anderson as she toddled toward her sister at the bean bag toss. “Where’s the rest of our Initiative?”

Jensen met Jared’s stunned gaze with one of his own. He’d heard the twins talking about Chris and Steve filling out the Avengers roster, but he thought the older men were just humoring them. He could only assume that he was wrong as Chris, covered in green body paint and wearing a cut off pair of purple sweat pants, and Steve, silver breast plate reflecting the flames of the tiki torches and red cape rippling in the gentle breeze, came closer. Choking back a surprised laugh, he forced out. “So, exactly which one of the kids’ fingers are you wrapped around?”

“Fuck off, Ackles. What are you two supposed to be? Ennis and Jack?” Chris fist bumped Austin.

“Ennis and Jack?” Jared’s eyebrows rose, looking at the four men for clarification.

“Brokeback Mountain.” Steve prompted, waving a hand to encompass Jensen and Jared’s Western shirts, jeans and cowboy boots.

“Brokeback Mountain?” Jared shook his head from side to side, still confused.

“You know, the gay cowboy movie? ‘I wish I knew how to quit you?’ “ Seeing Jared still didn’t understand the reference, Chris smiled. “Don’t worry, I’m sure Jenny will be happy to tell you all about it. Now, where are Iron Man and Captain America?”

Austin pointed to the entrance of the hay maze where Karen Ackles was handing her grandsons and the twins small handheld flashlights. Jared stiffened, the darkened corridors of the artificially constructed maze, ominous. Before he could take a step, Chris slapped Steve on the arm. “Come on, Thor.” They rushed after the quartet, Steve scooping up Dalton and Benji while Chris gathered Hunter and TJ, the boys squealing in delight.

“You ever think you’d see Chris head over heels for a bunch of kids?” Jensen smirked, watching his best friend disappear behind a wall of hay with the four boys and his laughing lover.

“Never.” 

“Come on, Jared. Let me introduce you to the greatness of the Ackles Halloween Festival.” He waved good-bye to Austin and tugged Jared toward the booths.

 

* * *

 

 

Hours later, Jared and Jensen sat side by side on the back of the wagon, the last hayride of the night finished a half hour before. They watched people as they passed, Jensen naming the few that Jared hadn’t met yet. The crowd had thinned considerably as the night wore on, but there was still easily a hundred people milling around and enjoying the camaraderie. Milo and Sandy were perched on one of the bales of hay surrounding the fire, snuggled under a large blanket. Karen and Alex helped the kids roast marshmallows, replacing the puffed sugar squares each time one of the children returned with an empty skewer. Danneel and Jim worked with Sam to dismantle her booth, collecting the un-bobbed apples in a crate and dumping the water out of the basins. Misha and Vicky were at their booth – Whoa! – needing to find a more secluded spot. Jensen bumped Jared’s elbow, jerking his head in their direction, loving the blush that stole over tanned cheeks. It was Jared that noticed Austin and Genevieve having a quiet, intimate conversation in the dark recess at the edge of the barn. Jensen took in the way Austin tenderly brushed a strand of hair from Genevieve’s face and her shy smile, nodding his head in approval.

Chris and Steve emerged around the side of the wagon, Chris’ hair disheveled and Steve’s breastplate hanging askew from his shoulders. Clearing his throat, Jensen schooled his face into an expectant look.

“Jensen, Jared,” Steve shifted his costume, trying to get the chest piece to sit correctly.

“Y’all enjoying yourselves?” Jared’s lips were pressed in a tight line, fighting the smile that threatened to break free.

“Definitely,” Chris leered, leaning against the edge of the wagon. Up close, Jensen could see where his face paint was streaked from sweat and rubbed clean in certain places. Steve had green smudges on his neck and arms. “Jared, I’ve been meaning to ask. You hear much from Murray?”

“Yeah. We’re still really good friends. Funny you should mention him, he called today to say he was coming for Thanksgiving.” Jared swung his legs back and forth.

“Chaddy’s coming?” Jensen’s eyes filled with mirth. Chad was always good for a laugh. “Awesome!”

“Uncle Chris! Uncle Steve!” TJ and Benji ran up, chorusing their cries in a way only twins can achieve. Benji grabbed Chris’ hand and TJ clutched Steve’s dragging them away. 

“Come sing for us,” TJ turned the full force of his eyes on Steve.

“Please,” Benji begged.

“You must be a cold hearted bastard to refuse them anything,” Chris hollered to Jared over his shoulder, allowing the young boy to pull him away.

“They’re my children; makes me immune to their powers,” Jared called back.

Chris and Steve settled on a felled tree trunk beside the fire, fingers deftly strumming their guitars to check the tuning. People meandered closer, blankets appearing on the ground and spaces disappearing on the available hay bales. The children sat cross-legged in front of the duo, eyes wide and entranced. Whisky-honeyed voices filled the air, crooning love songs and old country ballads. Jensen hummed along, mumbling words to the chorus every once in a while. Jared let his gaze drift over the crowd. Couples were nestled close, gathering warmth from each other as the singers’ soothing sounds washed over them. Jared noted the people he still needed to meet – an older couple in rocking chairs carried down from the back porch that Jared was fairly certain was the infamous Shaws, a young woman cuddling a bundled baby close to her chest, a balding man sitting by himself and giving off an air that he preferred it that way. 

A smile ghosted over his lips at the sight of Karen and Alex, wrapped around each other in a blanket. They reminded him so much of his own parents back in Georgia, a lasting marriage that still held the spark of passion that rivaled most newlyweds. He couldn’t be more grateful that the twins had two such doting people close by when his own folks couldn’t be. Conscious of his gaze, Karen turned toward him, her green eyes dancing merrily in the firelight. Her smile was warm and loving – a tender smile for one of her own. She jerked her head to the right, eyes crinkling in happiness. Furrowing his brow, Jared looked at Jensen to his left wondering what it was that Karen was trying to tell him.

Jensen was watching the gathered crowd and Jared followed his gaze to find it not focused on his best friends singing, but the enamored twins sitting at their feet. There was a fondness to his expression, one that resembled the look Karen had graced Jared with, and he had to stifle a surprised gasp. Never, in six years, had Timothy, their Father, ever looked at the boys that way. Like he was proud of them, like he loved them, like they were his own. It was how Jared hoped he looked when he watched them. Knowledge struck lightning quick and realization followed on fast thunder, leaving him breathless. He looked back at Karen who nodded at him in that knowing way all mother’s possessed, smile brightening. Somewhere between the pot roast and paint brushes, Jensen had fallen in love with Jared’s kids. In the last six weeks, Jensen had changed his bachelor life to become a part of their family – dinners at home each night, trips to the park, football in the backyard, tucking the kids in bed at night. It had happened so subtly that Jared missed it. He and Jensen were giving the kids the life Jared had always wanted for them. 

Jared stared on in awe as Jensen’s soft smile broadened, lips parting on a silent chuckle as Benji and TJ sung along with _The Devil Went Down To Georgia_. Green eyes flicked to him and a blush crept over Jensen’s cheeks at Jared’s intense focus.

“What?” Jensen asked, laughing self-consciously.

Jared brought his hand up, resting it on the side of Jensen’s neck, long fingers wrapping around his nape to draw him in closer. 

“Jared?” Jensen’s voice was curious and a bit hopeful and Jared refused to be distracted from this for anything short of a nuclear bomb. 

Jensen’s lips, chapped from the cool air and constant licking, were achingly familiar and Jared groaned at the remembered feel of them against his own. Jensen seemed unsure for a fraction of a moment before his arms wound around Jared’s body, tugging him closer. With a synchronicity that Jared wouldn’t have believed still existed, their mouths parted in unison to deepen the kiss, heads tilting at the exact angle to make it better and tongues coming out to play. Hands clutched in muscle memory over body parts they knew so well, as if seven years hadn’t passed since the last time they’d explored the muscled expanses. Jensen gently urged Jared down into the mounds of pitched hay in the wagon, their bodies sinking into the dried grass and concealing their intimacy from anyone’s view. He rolled them, blanketing Jared, and raised up on his elbow, breaking the kiss.

“Are you sure?” Jensen ran his fingers down the side of Jared’s face as if tactilely trying to memorize the contours in case Jared’s answer was ‘no.’

“Of you?” Jared leaned into Jensen’s touch, “Always.” And Jared had never spoken truer words. “What about you? I’m a packaged set. Date one, get two free. We can be a lot to handle.”

“I think I’m up to the challenge,” Jensen winked, dipping down for another kiss.

Jared pressed his palm, to the older man’s chest, lightly pushing him away. “Just, um, can we go slow? A lot has happened since we…” Jared trailed off, shrugging his shoulders, “So, slow?” He lowered his eyes and scrunched his face the same way Jensen remembered him doing when asking him to do something Jared thought he didn’t want to do.

“Jared,” Jensen kept his voice soft, but serious, hand resting over Jared’s heart, “we’ll go at your speed.” He ducked his head to meet uncertain hazel eyes and petted down Jared’s chest to cup his hip. “I’m in no hurry. I just want you to be happy.”

Jared raised his head, hope shining in his eyes. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” Jensen nudged the tips of their noses together, pressing his lips to Jared’s in a quick, chaste kiss, “but you have to promise me something.”

Jared’s optimistic eyes dulled. “What’s that?” His voice was wary and suspicious.

“Try to eat a little more,” he squeezed Jared’s hip playfully, sliding his hand up to slot his fingers in the valleys between Jared’s ribs. “When we decide to do more, I’d like a little something to hold on to.” He waggled his eyebrows before his face lost its teasing tone. “Please,” he begged, “I just want you to be healthy.”

Jared opened his mouth to protest, but snapped it closed at the worry gazing down on him. Jensen was right. Even though he’d gained enough weight in the last few weeks – thanks to Jensen dishing seconds on to his plate every night – to warrant new pants, he was still severely underweight. The town’s doctor, Dr. Morgan, was keeping a close watch on Jared’s blood work in the hopes of managing his chronic anemia, but had strongly suggested that Jared take steps to healthily bring his body weight up and eat a more rounded diet. _Man cannot live on salad alone, Jared._

“I promise.”

“Jensen? Jared?” Sandy’s voice floated through the tangled straw to them. 

“I think our presence is being requested,” Jensen stole another kiss before unburying himself from the hay to drop down off the back of the wagon. He tugged Jared free and they went in search of Sandy who was near the fire with Milo.

“The twins fell asleep,” she pointed at the burgundy and blue lumps on the blanket, Chris and Steve keeping guard over them. “Thought you might want to keep them that way.”

“Thanks, San,” Jared dropped a kiss to her cheek and clapped Milo on the back, heading toward his slumbering children.

“Jensen, you have something sticking up the back of your collar,” her night-cool hand brushed across the nape of his neck, plucking a piece of hay from beneath his collar.

“Oh, thanks,” he ran a hand over the back of his neck to check for any more. Seeing Jared thank Chris and Steve while trying to heft up both boys, he excused himself. “I think Jared could use a hand.”

“I’ll grab the kids’ candy buckets,” Sandy offered, walking over to the bench where all the children had set their trick-or-treat pails for safe keeping.

“Thanks,” Jensen called over his shoulder. Approaching Jared, crouched on the ground mentally planning on how to pick up both twins without waking them, Jensen touched his shoulder lightly. “I’ll get Benji,” he whispered, knowing Benji was less likely to be upset waking in his arms.

“Thanks.” Jared nodded gratefully and scooped TJ up. When the little boy mewled, rousing slightly, he shushed him quietly. “Sshhh, Teddy Bear. Go back to sleep.” He glanced over and smiled as Benji nestled into Jensen’s chest, sleep undisturbed by the change in position.

“Here you go,” Sandy said softly, two candy filled pumpkin buckets dangling from her fingertips by a black plastic strap. 

“I’ll carry them,” Karen came over, brushing TJ’s hair off his forehead and taking the pails from Sandy, “I want to say good-night to my boys anyway.” She flicked on a flashlight to illuminate the way to the Impala and led the way.

Watching their friends disappear in the darkness, Sandy sighed, leaning back against Milo’s chest. “They make a perfect picture.”

“That they do,” Milo agreed.

Tilting a confused head to the side, Steve frowned. “Is it my imagination or does Jared have hay in his hair?”

“Not your imagination,” Sandy smiled, “I pulled some from Jensen’s collar, too.” 

“Ennis and Jack ride again?” Steve chuckled.

Chris’ grin was smug as he watched Jensen cuddle Benji closer to him. “About damn time.”


	10. Chapter 10

“Jenny!” A boisterous voice called over the back of the couch. 

“Chaddy!” Jensen answered, dropping his head back on the cushion, viewing the upside down blonde man.

“Dude, good to see you!  Been here since yesterday without seeing your gorgeous self; thought you were avoiding me.”  Chad came around the front of the couch and extended his hand.

“Nah, can’t miss seeing my main man. Life’s too boring without you in it,” Jensen reached up clasping the other man’s hand, only to be pulled from his seat into a one-armed hug.

“Don’t you forget it, either.” Chad thumped him once on the back then let go. He flopped down on the arm chair, sprawling so his body took up every available inch of space.

“How’s life been treating you?” Jensen settled back on the sofa, grabbing the remote to turn the volume down on the Cowboys game.

“Can’t complain,” Chad smiled, “Doesn’t help if I do anyway. You?”

“Good. Work keeps me pretty busy and these guys keep me on my toes,” he snatched his beer from the coffee table and took a long pull.

“I heard the twins have been subjecting you to their prankster ways.”

“Nothing too major so far. Tied-together shoe laces, whoopee cushions, Superglued my hand to my keys once,” he chuckled, the bottle mouth hovering just above his lips. Shaking his head at the memory of Jared trying to use a cotton swab doused in nail polish remover to unglue his keys from his palm, Jensen took another swallow. “I was worried they were doing it because they were upset over us being together, but Jared assures me this is normal and that they’ve actually showed some restraint.”

“Sounds like it. Watch out for TJ; he’s the mastermind. Don’t let the shyness fool you. All that hair hides his horns.” Chad laughed, eyes drifting to the television where Romo was lying face down on the ground after a spectacular sack.

“Good to know,” Jensen leaned forward to put his beer back on the table, cringing as Romo slowly stumbled to his feet. “Freaking Cowboys,” he muttered.

“Would’ve pegged you for a Broncos fan.”  Chad shifted in the chair, frowning. Reaching between the cushion and the arm, he pulled an Iron Man action figure out. He shrugged and tossed it in the direction of the kids’ toy basket in the corner.

“I was diehard during the Elway years. I really thought that the Florida Phenom was going to be our return to glory, but then they traded him to the Jets. Now we’ve got Manning and I don’t know what it is about that guy, I can’t stand him. So I figured since I already root for the Longhorns, I might as well root for the Cowboys, too.”

“Huh.” 

Jensen made a non-committal shrug and they lapsed into companionable silence watching the game. Half-way through the second quarter, the twins wandered in, Benji curling up on the couch next to Jensen and TJ climbing into Chad’s lap. Having never watched football before, the two young boys peppered the older men with questions about different calls and plays and Chad marveled at Jensen’s patient answers. For a man who’d never wanted children, Jensen was surprisingly good with them. The front door opened and Jensen craned his neck to see Austin sticking his head in.

“Hey, Jensen, I need to run into the parlor real quick and pick up the vanilla ice cream. You guys mind if I leave Hunter and Dalton here? They’ll have more fun playing with the twins than riding to town.”

Rolling his eyes at the miniature Padalecki Puppy Eyes of Doom, he waved a hand at Austin. “No problem, bro.” No sooner did Jensen get the words out did his nephews come barreling into the house. TJ and Benji jumped up and joined the other two boys in the hallway, all four chorusing “Thanks, Uncle Jensen!” as they stampeded up the stairs.

“Dude, you’re so totally Dad material,” Chad smirked, “The gruesome twosome are head over heels for you.”

“Benji seems to like me well enough, but Teej is still stand-offish. He’s still pretty loyal to Olyphant and I think he’s afraid I’m trying to replace him.” Jensen tried to sound casual, but it actually hurt a little that TJ was so reticent around him.

“Somebody needs to,” Chad mumbled, angrily. “I’ve never understood why that child was so devoted to that asshole.”

“A dog that’s been kicked its whole life will still lick its masters boots because it doesn’t know any different.”  Jensen had seen it so many times in Chicago. Children clinging to an abusive parent because in their mind it didn’t matter; that person was still their parent.

Seeing Jensen’s knowing look, Chad blanched. “You know, don’t you?”

“Yeah,” There was no need for elaboration. Chad could only be talking about one thing.

“Jared told you?” The blonde’s eyes were wide with hurt and his tone was incredulous. “Fucker didn’t tell me for four years. I mean I suspected, but he never came out and said. He’s been here, what? Two months…”

“Chill out,” Jensen shot a quick look over his shoulder to make sure that Jared and the boys were out of earshot, “He didn’t tell me. In fact, Jared doesn’t talk about his life in Atlanta, at all. I recognized the signs. I am a cop, remember?!”

“Is that what you do? I thought it was just a gimmick to pick up unsuspecting college kids,” Chad replied, jokingly, but it was only half-hearted. Eyes going uncharacteristically soft, he glanced over at a portrait of Jared and the twins taken the previous Christmas. “He denied it for years,” Chad murmured softly, “covered the worst of it and made excuses for the lighter stuff – fell down the stairs, ran into something, _I tripped over my own feet, Chad, You know I’m a  clumsy goof, Chad,_ ” he perfectly mimicked Jared’s teasing voice, “I thought that was shit dialogue they wrote for after-school specials. Then I’m sitting there having coffee with my best friend, watching his kids sleeping in a stroller, listening to him say it. I tried everything to get him to tell me…” He shook his head, staring out the window.

Jensen’s eyes raked over the other man, shaken by the broken look on his normally affable face. Olyphant’s abuse had affected more than Jared and the twins, it had touched the people that loved them, too. “Wh-“ he cleared his throat quietly, “What changed?”

Chad pulled his gaze from the window, the simple act seeming to take great effort, and considered Jensen with a confused look. “Changed?”

“What was it that finally made him tell you what was really going on?”  Jensen shifted in his seat to fully face Chad, curling one leg up on the cushion.

“The hospital called,” Chad huffed a mirthless laugh. 

“The hospital?” Jensen interrupted in surprise, fingers gripping the hem of his jeans.

“Yeah, apparently 911 received a call from Jared’s sons, his _four-year-old sons_ , saying that their Daddy was hurt and wouldn’t wake up. When the paramedics got there TJ wouldn’t talk and Benji kept repeating for them to call me and my phone number. The boys told me later that Jared made them memorize my name and number and told them if anything ever happened to have the police or ambulance call me. I realized then that Jared wasn’t in denial about what Timothy was doing, he was trapped. He never said, but my guess was Timothy either threatened to hurt the kids or take them from him. Jared ended up in the hospital for three days and I kept the twins. When he was released we sat down and had ourselves a little ‘come to Jesus’ meeting.”

“He didn’t try to press charges?” Jensen could feel the anger building. It was one thing to abstractly know something was going on, it was another to have it confirmed. Realizing that he was getting too loud, he lowered his voice, “There had to be an investigation. The paramedics are bound by law to report possible cases of abuse.”

“He told the cops that he’d left the garage door open and someone came in and jumped him. The police nosed around a bit, but then the investigation was dropped without another word.” Chad shrugged, shaking his head.

It sounded to Jensen like Olyphant had friends in the right places. If you were going to beat your lover, it helped to have a thin blue line of protection surrounding you in case you went too far. The bastard was an important business man in Atlanta and it wouldn’t take much to use his influence and money to keep a local LEOs on a short leash. Jensen wondered exactly how many palms Olyphant had to grease to ensure he stayed out of jail. At least it explained why his record was clean. A thought occurred to Jensen and his stomach tightened. According to Manns, all of Timothy’s businesses were bankrupt or on the verge of it except the production company that handled Jared’s photographs. That would mean it was Jared’s money that Olyphant used to keep his abusive activities under wraps. 

“They’re happy here. Jared’s happy here,” Chad’s voice startled him out of his thoughts, the blonde nodding to where Jared’s booming laughter was echoing from the kitchen where he was sequestered with the woman cooking, “more than I’ve seen in years. Probably since the day the twins were born,” he snorted, “If anyone deserves it, it’s him and those kids. Don’t mess this up, Ackles. Jared needs a partner – someone who can remind him that love shouldn’t come with a Vicodin prescription – and those boys need a real father who’ll spend time with them and love them. If you can’t be that man, then back out now before they become anymore attached. They’ve had more than their fair share of douches and don’t need another.”

Jensen was taken aback by Chad’s serious tone and vehemence. “Understood. Look, Chad, I know that back in Savannah I wasn’t ready for kids, but that was then and this is now. I want to be a part of this family. I want Teej and Benji to glue my keys to my hands and Jared to complain about the horrible kids he had at his three-thirty sitting. I want the runny noses and midnight fevers, the baseball games and award ceremonies, birthday parties and principal visits. But you know what I want most of all?” He waited for Chad to look him in the eye to make sure the blonde was listening, “I want Jared there beside me. Believe me when I say that I _am_ that man.” 

Chad’s mouth hung open a little, his face slack with awe. “I guess you are. Just know, I get one phone call and my Jarebear is anything but ecstatic, I’m gunning for you, Jenny.”

“Ten-four, Chaddy,” he mock saluted.

Chad flipped him off just as a thundering herd descended the stairs, the four boys rushing toward the door. “Heading out to play, Uncle Jensen,” Benji called, hand on the knob.

“Just don’t get dirty or your dad will have all our heads.”

Benji threw open the door and ran straight into Penn, whose hand was raised about to knock. “Whoa, guys. Where’s the emergency?”

“Sorry, Deputy Badgley,” Benji apologized.

“Don’t worry about it, little man. Just slow down or I’ll have to write you a speeding ticket.” He held the door open, allowing the young boys to walk underneath the bridged created by his outstretched arm.

“Yes sir,” Benji answered, eyes wide and serious, scampering after his brother and friends.

Chuckling, Penn shut the door. “Hello? Anyone home? Parental units?”

“In here, Penn,” Jensen called, rising from the couch to greet his friend with a warm handshake. “Glad you could make it, man.”

“Me, too,” Penn transferred a large magazine from one hand to the other and gripped Jensen’s hand firmly. “Hey, Chad.”

“Badger!”

 _Badger_? Jensen mouthed, raising his eyebrows at his fellow officer behind Chad’s back. Receiving a glare in response, he decided to drop the subject for now, but file it away for future station torment.

Dropping the magazine down on the coffee table, Penn sat on the arm of the couch. “Thanks for letting me borrow that, Chad. The photographs were absolutely amazing. There was an article in there about hyperfocal distances that I had a few questions on. You, um, got a few minutes?”

Interest sparkled in Chad’s eyes and Jensen tried to focus on the ballgame, not entirely sure what was going on between his two friends. Picking up his beer bottle again, he took a sip.

“Yeah,” Chad jumped up from his chair, checking the time on the small clock on the wall, “we’ve still got about an hour before this shindig is supposed to start. I have my handheld camera in the car. Come on out and we’ll see if we can’t make things a little clearer.”

Jensen waved dismissively with the hand holding the bottle as the two men made their exit. Just as he was becoming engrossed in the game again, Jared came in and flomped on the couch next to him. Sighing, Jared crossed his arms and stuck his bottom lip out in an exaggerated pout. “It’s my house,” he mumbled.

“They kicked you out of the kitchen, didn’t they?” Jensen laughed at the childish pose and nudged Jared’s ankle with his toe.

“Yes,” Jared answered, petulantly, “They told me if I didn’t have any worthwhile gossip that I was just in the way.”

Jensen snickered. That sounded like something his mom would say. 

“Of course, I don’t think it helped my case when I started making gagging noises while Genevieve was talking about the gloriousness of your brother’s ass.”

Jensen shuddered, “That’s an understandable reaction. I’m surprised you didn’t use the ice pick to burst your eardrums.” He patted Jared’s arm consolingly, a smirk playing across his lips.

“It was close, man, I tell ya’,” he snatched Jensen’s beer and took a long swallow, emptying a quarter of the contents in one pull, “But I think what really sealed my fate was my argument that your tushie was better. Your mom said she didn’t want to hear anything more about her sons’ derrieres and that I was a distraction.”

Taking his beer back, frowning at how much was now gone, Jensen turned to face his boyfriend. “Tushie? Seriously, Jay? There’s gotta be some kind of rehab for parents to teach them to talk like adults again after their kids pass the baby stage,” he lifted up and tugged his phone from his pocket, touching the screen to activate it. “You think it’s listed under Baby Talk Therapist or maybe Parent Re-acclimation Specialist?”

“Give me that!” Jared lunged trying to reach his phone, only to have Jensen quickly moving it out of reach, all the while holding his bottle to the side to keep from spilling it. Realizing his attempts were useless and that he was practically in Jensen’s lap, Jared leaned in to give the older man a soft kiss.

“Mmm,” Jensen moaned. Jared tasted a little like pumpkin and cinnamon from taste-testing his pumpkin pie filling, the flavors intoxicating mixed with Jared’s own. “You really defended my ass’s honor in front of my mother?”

“Damn straight!” Jared nodded, settling on the couch beside Jensen again, “Have you seen your ass?” Thinking about it for a minute, Jared made a considering face, “Probably not. It’s kinda hard to see your own ass. Rest assured, it puts all others to shame, including Austin’s.”

“I think I should be slightly disturbed that you’ve been staring at Austin’s ass long enough to compare,” Jensen winked, leaning in to steal another kiss.

“No worries, stud. Your ass is the only one I’m interested in.” Jared nestled into Jensen’s side to watch the last quarter of the game. 

During a commercial break, Jensen peered outside to check on the kids. Frowning, he jostled the shoulder under Jared’s head to get his attention. “Hey.”

“Hmmm,” Jared sleepily shifted to face him, eyes hooded in relaxation, a look Jensen could get used to seeing on the other man.

He jutted his chin toward the large picture window where Penn and Chad could be seen on the front porch swing sitting a little too close for casual acquaintances. “What’s up with them?”

Jared rolled his head to see what Jensen was referring to and shrugged. “Penn came by last night to drop off that punch bowl your mother asked him to bring and I introduced them. They seemed to hit it off right away. I finally went to bed around midnight and they were still going strong.” Jared watched as Chad threw his head back and laughed at something Penn said, the younger man blushing at the reaction.

“You think it’s one of Chad’s weekend things?” Jensen unconsciously nuzzled into Jared hair, his nose slotting into the long locks and inhaling the fresh scent of his shampoo. “You said he was talking about moving out here to be closer to you and the kids. Was that before or after he met Penn?”

“This morning actually,” Jared watched the two men closely, something about Chad’s behavior was off. He studied them as ads for Black Friday jingled in the background, Santa hocking everything from snow blowers to Barbie dolls, and just as Aikman began the recap of the pigskin activity before the break, it hit Jared. Chad’s usually over-the-top personality was more subdued, the charm washing over Penn in gentle waves instead of the normal tsunami. Chad’s smiles were shy and almost demure, his touches more caresses than gropes. Eyes flicking to Penn, Jared could see the young officer soaking up the attention, his face open and completely enamored. “Aw, crap!”

“What?” Jensen had turned back to the television to see the replay of the Redskins’ touchdown drive, cringing at the whiffed tackles by the Dallas defense, when Jared spoke. Following his gaze, he pursed his lips at the intimate image the two men outside were creating. “JG’s gonna be heartsick.”

Sighing deeply, Jared smiled up at Jensen. “Afraid so, but there’s nothing that can be done about it now. I don’t think turning the hose on ‘em, is gonna work. ”

Tightening his arm around Jared’s shoulders, pressing him closer to his side, Jensen placed a kiss to Jared’s temple. “Only thing to do is let it play out and be there for JG to help pick up the pieces. I guess it’s better it was Chad than someone local.”

Nodding his head in agreement, Jared settled it on Jensen’s shoulder and let the smell of his boyfriend’s skin wash over him, reveling again at the lack of cologne. He closed his eyes and absorbed the warmth of being held, the play-by-play a soothing background.

They passed the beer back and forth between them, greeting new arrivals as they entered, and refused to move until it was time to corral the kids to wash up and change clothes. 

 

* * *

 

Long tables were set up in Jared’s back yard, burgundy linen table cloths fluttering in the slight November breeze. It was probably the last weekend that they could comfortably spend outside, fortunate that winter had held off for this celebration. Paper lanterns had been strung from the eaves of the house to the surrounding oak trees, interwoven between strands of white lights, to create a fabric of soft illumination overhead that warmed the eating space as the sun set without being obtrusive. Dozens of people had showed up and Jensen allowed his gaze to travel over each face, friends new and old, their presence feeling right and comforting. 

A small table to the side had been claimed by the children as their domain, the chairs filled with a variety of ages ranging from little BethAnn Shoemaker, just turned three and only visible over the edge of the table because of the phone book she was sitting on, to Rusty Harper, eleven and firmly rooted in the awkward no-man’s land of adolescence, where you weren’t a kid anymore, but not a teenager either. Benji and TJ were seated at one end, TJ carefully scooping Benji’s carrots on to his plate and Benji more sloppily transferring TJ’s cranberry sauce to his, both darting looks at their Daddy whose back was to them. Feeling his gaze on them, they turned simultaneously – something they did often and Jensen still hadn’t become used to – with guilty looks. Smirking at them, Jensen winked and moved his attention to his own table.

This table had been reserved for closest friends and relatives. His father sat at the head of the table opposite him with his mother to his right. The sides were lined by those he held dear – Chris, Steve, Austin, Genevieve, Chad, Penn, Jim and Sam – while the surrounding tables were filled to the brim with other townspeople. Sandy and Milo were talking with Danneel and Tom Hardy while Jeffrey Dean, the town doctor, checked his pager before returning to his conversation with Misha and his wife, Vicky. Jensen continued to scan the crowd, noting the people he should speak to before they left and hadn’t had the opportunity – the Shaws, curbing their cantankerous ways in lieu of the holiday and a free meal, and Amber Benson, Jared’s boss. He smiled as everyone seemed to be enjoying themselves, feeling that somehow this was the way it was supposed to be. Something kicked his shin under the table and he snapped his eyes over to Jared’s mischievously smiling face. 

“What are you grinning at?” Jensen felt his heart warm at Jared’s questioning smile and soft eyes. If he hadn’t realized it before, he knew now. He was in love with Jared, maybe never stopped being in the first place.

Cupping a hand to the side of Jared’s face and leaning in for a chaste kiss, he grinned sappily, “Just thankful, that’s all.”

 

* * *

 

 

Jared and Jensen stood shoulder to shoulder at the dessert table, each holding two plates – one their own and the other for one of the twins – surveying the home baked buffet before them. The women of Wowakan usually swept the pie and cake baking contests at the county fair and right now they were staring at some of the past and current blue ribbon winning recipes.

“Benji will want some of that ambrosia,” Jared pointed at the marshmallow and fruit concoction with the spoon he was using to dish peach cobbler on his and Teddy’s plates, “and some of that pumpkin pie.”

Jensen dutifully placed the items on Benji’s plate, adding a few chocolate chip cookies on one side and a dollop of ice cream to the other. He shook the can of whipped cream and sprayed some on the pumpkin pie in the shape of a smiley face. He felt a small hand on his back and looked over to see his mother peeking her head around his side.

“The plates for the twins done? They’re getting a little antsy.” She chuckled at the smiley face and patted Jensen on the back.

“Yeah,” Jared set his nearly empty plate on the table and reached out to take Benji’s from Jensen, “I’ll go get them started then come back and get mine.”

“Nonsense,” Karen chided, taking the plates from him, “Get your dessert. I’ll take care of the boys.” Without waiting for a response, she walked toward the children’s table and was greeted by a pair of excited squeals Jared would know anywhere.

Handing Jared his plate, Jensen looked over items trying to decide how many he could logistically fit on his plate. Noticing Sam Ferris’ famous triple chocolate, triple layer cake, he nudged Jared with his elbow. “You gotta try Sam’s cake,” he moved closer and picked up the cutter, “It brings new meaning to death by chocolate.”

Jared scrunched his face at the rich looking dessert, a shiver raking his whole frame. “I, uh, I don’t eat chocolate anymore,” staring vacantly at the cake, he added, “don’t even really care for the smell of it.” 

“You don’t like chocolate?” Jensen couldn’t help the disbelieving tone in his voice. Jared’s love of all things sugary was well-known, but his affinity for chocolate was almost legendary. Once, Jensen had teased Jared that he was having an affair on him with Mr. Hershey, checking his collar for chocolate smudges instead of lipstick.

Jared blinked, an unreadable smile curling his lips, “Yeah. Weird, right? They say that your taste buds change over time,” at Jensen’s skeptical look, he nodded his head, “I’ve seen it. Teddy used to hate carrots, even as a baby would spit them out at me, and then all of the sudden one day he loved them. Now, they’re his favorite vegetable.”

“Okay, so no chocolate. You know that eliminates like half the table, right?” Jensen still wasn’t convinced, but decided not to push the issue…today, adding it to the growing list of things he and Jared needed to sit down and have a serious talk about soon.

“Well, I already got some peach cobbler and there’s a pecan pie over there. Plus, I’ve been itching to get at that lemon cake I saw your Mom bring in earlier.” His smile this time was open and genuine, “I’m good. There’s enough sugar here to keep me hyper until it’s time to break out the Christmas cookies.”

“God help us all,” Jensen teased, the cake cutter slicing into the uppermost layer of Sam’s cake.

“Jensen!” His mother’s happy yell startled him, his hand jerking down and cutting the piece of cake at an odd angle. Looking over, he saw her pat each twin on the head lovingly before she darted off to the side of the house where a girl with long blonde hair had emerged.

“What’s that about?” Jared craned his neck to see who had Karen so excited.

“Can only be Dakota,” Jensen answered, rolling his eyes, “I guess she made it after all.”

“Dakota? She’s…here?” Jared’s words came out low and stilted and Jensen faced him.

“Yeah. You okay?” Jared’s face was blank, his eyes distant, “You knew Momma invited her, right? I mean, that was okay, right?”  It was strange, Jared and Dakota got along famously when he and Jensen were together the first time. Dakota adored Jared, followed him everywhere, and Jared treated her like another sister. Dakota was honestly heartbroken when Jensen and Jared decided to part ways, yelling at him that she didn’t understand and moping for weeks. Now, Jared didn’t seem the least bit thrilled that she was here.

Schooling his features, Jared’s smile returned if only a pale imitation of his normal one. “Of course. She’s family. Why don’t you go over there and greet her and I’ll take your plate back to the table.”

“Come with. She’s going to want to see her favorite brother, Jared.” 

Firmly taking Jensen’s plate, Jared forced a tight smile. “I’ll catch up with her later after the family has had some time with her. Go on.”

“You sure?” Jensen reluctantly released his plate.

“Yes, I’m sure. Now, go before your mother squeezes the stuffing out of the poor girl.” Jared bumped his hip against Jensen’s gently shoving him toward where Karen had Dakota in a tight embrace.

Watching Jared head back to the table, Jensen added another item to his growing list of conversation topics. Sighing, he wound through the tables toward his mother and sister. “Momma, stop. Her eyes are bugging out!”

 

* * *

 

Hours later, Jensen worked his way through the remaining people. He’d been searching for Jared and had yet to find him among the stragglers. Seeing his mom over by the dessert table covering the left overs with cling wrap, he dodged TJ and Hunter dressed as Indians, construction paper headbands and feathers adorning their heads, being chased by Benji and Dalton in cowboy hats. Jensen did a double take, trying to get a closer look at the hat perched on Benji’s head – a hat that closely resembled his own. He was going to have to talk to the boy about taking things without asking.

“Hey, Momma,” he greeted approaching the table, “have you seen Jared? I lost him somewhere.”

Karen laughed, placing an uncut pumpkin pie in a box next to an intact pecan one and a few bags of rolls. Every year since Jensen could remember his mother had always packaged up the uneaten food and carried it to the local shelter, joyfully handing it over to Samantha Smith who ran the facility. He also knew that each year when Samantha unpacked the box, she found an envelope with several hundred dollars enclosed tucked under the food with a note that it should be used to buy Christmas presents and food for the families that wouldn’t otherwise be able to afford it. In the twenty something years it had occurred to Jensen to notice, Santa had never failed to visit and bring the children a gift for Christmas morning. It always filled him with a warm sense of pride to realize that his mother was the reason for some people’s Christmas miracle.

“…man in town.”

Shaking his head, not realizing that he’d been lost in his own thoughts, he looked at his mother in confusion. “Sorry, Momma, zoned out there for a second. What did you say?”

“I _said_ that I wasn’t sure how you lose the tallest man in town, but now I think I might have an idea,” she winked at her son. “Jared went into the house a little while ago. Said he wanted to start on the clean-up before it got too late. I told him I’d help, I just needed to box these things up for Austin to drop off, but he said he could handle it.”

Glancing toward the house, where he could see the light on in the kitchen, Jensen leaned over and kissed his mom on the cheek. “Thanks, Momma.”

He jogged in the direction of the house, noting the drop in temperature and that he should probably bring out sweatshirts for the boys, and scaled the stairs to the back porch. Through the window in the door, Jensen could see Jared at the sink washing dishes and Dakota standing near the island, biting her lip nervously. The door was open a crack, the sounds of water splashing and running drifting through the space as Jared washed and rinsed each dish in turn before setting it on a spread out dishtowel to the left of the sink, seemingly oblivious to the other presence in the room.

“Jared,” Dakota’s voice was soft and hesitant.

Jared startled, confirming Jensen’s belief he didn’t know the girl was there, and dropped the mixing bowl in the foam-filled sink, sloshing water over the edge and across his clothes. Spinning around, breath heaving with the surge of adrenaline, he gave an embarrassed chuckle. “Dakota! You scared the living daylights out of me.”

“Sorry,” she mumbled, frowning down at her tightly clasped hands resting on the counter, “I just, uh,” she blew out a hard breath, cheeks puffing out in an imitation of a chipmunk, “I just wanted to talk to you for a minute. You know, without my brother and everyone around.”

Jensen was conflicted. He knew he shouldn’t listen in on other people’s conversations – his Momma had certainly taught him better than that – but the way his sister and Jared had acted around each other had his curiosity peaked. The few times the two had been together tonight, their interactions were stilted and forced, almost like they were the ones who’d suffered the break-up instead of Jensen and Jared.

Grabbing a clean dishtowel from the oven handle, Jared dried his hands. “What did you want to talk about?” 

“You know what,” Dakota answered defeatedly, shoulders slumping. “I need to apologize, Jared. I was young and hurt and I acted stupidly. I know that now, but back then…” She shook her head. “You were like a brother to me and then one day you were gone. I felt like you didn’t love Jensen anymore, didn’t love me. I just wanted you to hurt as bad as I did.” 

She wandered over to the refrigerator, eyes roving over the photographs held there by vibrantly colored, plastic letter magnets. Her finger traced a picture of Jensen with Jared and the twins that Chris took when Jared had brought the twins to see Jensen at the station, secured by two pink letter Js, a blue B and a yellow T. Benji sat in Jensen’s lap, wearing Jensen’s hat and badge, while TJ sat in Jared’s, wearing Chris’ things, all four looking at the camera with bright smiles on their faces. Sitting on the desk and watching over them all was Deputy Bear who Benji had insisted make the trip. 

“I really messed everything up for everyone, didn’t I?” She turned head, her green eyes glistening. She blinked and a tear fell, racing down her cheek and leaving a wet track in its wake. 

Jared was quickly at her side, thumb wiping away the tear as he cupped her face. “Don’t cry. You were fifteen, you didn’t know any better.” He pulled her into a hug, his large body enveloping her in his embrace. Jensen could see and hear his sister’s sobs as she buried herself in Jared’s shirt, pale fingers fisting in the fabric. “Shhh, it’s all in the past now.  Nothing to be done but move forward, right?” He leaned back and smiled at her.

Shaking her head again, she wiped her tears away on the back of her hand. “You should hate me, Jared. I ruined…”

“Hey, now,” Jared hugged her close, “Don’t ever say something like that. I could never hate my ‘Kota.” He pressed a kiss into her platinum locks. 

Jensen slowly backed down the porch steps and melted into the waning crowd. His list was growing at an alarming rate and Jensen didn’t think he could hold off the potentially explosive sit-down he needed to have with Jared. The young man had too many secrets closely guarded to his chest and those were usually the ones that came back to bite you in the ass.

 

* * *

 

Timothy picked up his vibrating phone from the nightstand, glancing at the caller ID before answering.

“You better have some fucking news, Pileggi,” he growled into the mouthpiece in way of greeting.

“I found him,” Mitch rolled his eyes at his _employer’s_ gruff tone. Somedays he wondered if this job was worth all the assholes he had to put up with.

“Are you sure? Where?”

“He’s in a little town in Colorado, a spot in the road called Wowakan. One of the companies that Murray guy owned had recently bought a farm there and when I went to check it out, he was living in it.” Mitch leafed through the pictured he’d taken while keeping Jared and his family under surveillance – shots of Jared and the twins around town, Jared dropping the boys off at school, Jared at work, Jared and Jensen on Halloween, Jensen and his friends at Fire Water. 

“He with anybody?” Timothy’s jaw tightened the words forced out through gritted teeth.

Mitch hesitated, holding a photo of Jared and Jensen kissing on the back of the hayride wagon. Even in the short time that Mitch had been following the young man and his children, he could see how Jared had blossomed under Jensen’s attention. Sighing, he tossed the glossy pages back down on the table and scrubbed a hand over his bald head. “Yeah. He’s been seen around with the Deputy Sheriff,” Mitch flipped through his pocket notebook for his notes on Jared’s companion. “Name’s Jensen –“

“Ackles,” Timothy finished, anger boiling through his veins.

“You know him?” Mitch leaned forward in his chair, propping his foot on his knee to untie the laces of his boot.

“You could say that. Thank you, Mr. Pileggi,” Timothy said silkily, “Please send me a bill for your time and any notes or pictures you may have gathered during your investigation.  I no longer require your services.” Timothy snapped his phone closed not waiting for an answer.

He threw his phone on the nightstand, the device skittering across the surface and falling over the side. Fucking Ackles. Jensen really thought he could take Jared away from him. Jared belonged to him, he owned Jared. A whimper and nudge brought his attention back from thoughts of his college rival. Slapping a hand down on Matt’s ass, Timothy started to thrust again, having stilled to conduct his phone call with the private investigator. 

“Such a needy little whore,” Timothy rubbed his palm over the red handprint on Matt’s smooth skin. His hips moved faster, the thrusts harder with each successive in and out, until the man beneath him was crying and pleading. Listening to his whore beg him and picturing Jared under him begging for mercy, knowing Jared would be there again, the pace turned brutal. Timothy smirked as he was overcome by his climax, shoving Matt roughly from the bed, unconcerned about the man’s pleasure.

“Get out.”

When the door closed Timothy laid back, pleased at the lack of wet spot, and turned to Jared’s side of the bed. His hand ran under the duvet and over the cool sheets, linens that he’d refused to let Matt touch. 

_Soon_.

 


	11. Chapter 11

Jensen nestled back into the cushions of the couch and propped his feet up on the coffee table, one ankle crossed over the other. A fire crackled merrily in the fireplace, the wood sporadically popping and splitting under the intense heat and pressure, and he wiggled his socked feet as the warmth dispelled the cold that had lingered even after hours inside. The end table lamp and Christmas tree bathed the living room in a warm glow while Charlie Brown moped across the TV screen bemoaning the lack of public knowledge on the meaning of Christmas.

“Okay, boys,” Jared called cheerily, fingers looped around the handles of three steaming mugs, “Hot chocolate for my little guys,” he gave each twin a ceramic mug with Santas painted along the edge and white, fluffy marshmallows poking over the rim, dropping a kiss to the tops of their heads, “and coffee for my big guy.” He passed over a mug with snowmen dancing around the side to Jensen and placed a quick kiss on his lips.

Jensen held the cup to his nose and inhaled the warm steam, letting it fill his lungs and clear his frozen sinuses. “Thanks, Daddy,” he prodded, winking at the taller man, when it was echoed in chorus.

“Enjoy,” Jared smiled, walking back into the dining room where he’d set up a present wrapping station, taking full advantage of the animated distraction. 

Jensen sipped his coffee, the full-bodied flavor exploding over his tongue. If there was one thing that Jared didn’t scrimp on it was coffee – and he knew exactly how Jensen liked his. Next to him, Benji was happily gulping down his sweet drink, a wet, brown mustache arching over his upper lip, entranced in the cartoon while TJ lounged lethargically against the opposite couch arm, disinterestedly balancing his mug on his thigh, glazed eyes staring unblinkingly at the screen. Jared had mentioned before dinner that TJ was acting a little ‘off’ and even made the boy’s favorite dinner in the hopes of rallying him, but TJ had just picked at his food and eaten half of what he normally would. 

“Uncle Jensen?” He pulled his gaze from the quiet boy on the end to the one in the middle. “Can we watch Mickey’s Christmas Carol?” Jensen noticed TJ look over at the question. “It’s Teddy’s favorite,” Benji added.

 _Ah, so he and Jared weren’t the only ones to notice_.

“Of course, buddy!” He leaned forward and set his coffee on the table, getting to his feet. “Is it in the entertainment center?” A spattering of meaty coughs, deep and chest rattling, snapped his head back to the couch just as his foot came down on an unforgiving piece of plastic. “Damnit! Ow, ow, ow!” Using the arm of the couch for support, Jensen crossed his injured foot over his leg and pulled a green army man from the tender flesh, the toy’s molded rifle embedded far enough to draw blood. “Benji, I _told_ you to pick these up earlier so no one would step on them,” Jensen chided, voice raising as he wiped a drop of blood away and examined the puncture. “You need to get down here and put them away right now!”

“Boys, why don’t you go upstairs and get ready for bed?” a cold, emotionless voice came from behind the couch. Jared stood in the entry, arms crossed over his chest and an unreadable expression on his face. On the sofa, the twins sat in stunned silence, staring at Jensen with wide, watery, panicked eyes. “Now, boys!” Jared repeated with more authority.

TJ and Benji scrambled from the couch and ran out of the room, making sure to round the end of the sofa farthest from Jensen who was still hunched over cradling his foot. Stonily, Jared grabbed the mugs of hot chocolate, one empty and the other barely touched, and carried them to the kitchen. Alone in the living room, the Peanuts gang singing _Hark the Herald Angels Sing_ in the background, Jensen wasn’t entirely sure what had just happened. Flicking the TV off, he tossed the remote on the cushion and followed Jared.

The younger man stood at the sink, rinsing out the mugs with more fervor than was necessary, his shoulders tense. “I don’t appreciate you yelling at my children like that,” he began as soon as Jensen entered the room, “If I wanted someone around who was only going to yell at them, I would have stayed where I was.”

“Only…going…to yell,” Jensen repeated dumbly, ignoring what the rest of that sentence implied. “Jared, it was the first time I’ve ever raised my voice to them. You do realize that children need to be reprimanded every once in a while and that raising your voice is sometimes a part of parenthood, especially with boys. I swear when I was a kid, my mother hollered herself silly over the stupid things that Austin and I did, never mind when ‘Kota tagged along,” he rolled his eyes, hoping to lighten the tension.

Jared set the mugs in the sink and braced his hands on the counter, back still to Jensen. “Reprimanded,” he shook his head and, in the reflection of the night darkened window, Jensen could see his lips pursed. Spinning around suddenly, Jared stood with clenched fists hanging at his side and a furious expression, “What’s next? Huh? Hitting? You gonna smack ‘em around if they don’t do everything just the way you want? What about me? Do I need to be reprimanded every once in a while, too?”

Jensen flinched back at the vehemence in those words. Even knowing why Jared would think them, they cut deep. Swallowing the angry, defensive retort dancing on the tip of his tongue, he took a step forward, closing the distance between them. “Why would you say that to me? I would never hurt you or the kids. I – I love you, all of you.” It wasn’t exactly the setting or atmosphere Jensen wanted for his declaration of love, but it needed to be said.

Jared leaned forward, hands on the island, fisting a dishtowel between them. His head dipped down, bangs obscuring his features, and Jensen watched as a tear fell, landing on the marble countertop. The room sat in pregnant silence, the low hum of the refrigerator the only sound until Jared’s quiet voice broke the stillness. “He said he did, too. It always amazed me,” he lifted his face, expression a disgusted sneer and voice gaining strength, “how those three little words could be used to justify anything.”

Jensen had allowed Jared to skate by the first two times, but his patient understanding of Jared’s words had run out. "Don't you _dare,_ Jared!” he seethed, hissing the words through clenched teeth, “Don't you **_ever,”_** he slammed his hand down on the island, “compare me to that fucking… _monster_ again, do you hear me?!" 

Jared stumbled back, never having seen Jensen – in the years before or now – this angry. Memories flooded his mind unbidden, the life he’d left rushing to the forefront. Nights praying for deliverance from the pain, for his partner’s release so it would end, for his children to stay asleep. Morning spent tending wounds and cleaning blood from sheets and floors. “Please, just me,” Jared begged, the plea slipping past his lips as his mind straddled the then and the now. “Don’t hurt the boys.” 

Jensen’s anger was quickly replaced by a sickening revulsion, his face paling. "You...you thought I was going to hit you!” he mumbled, incredulously. It was one thing to accuse; it was another to actually believe. “Jesus Christ... Jared...I....that's never gonna happen. I would never lay a hand on you in anger. I’m not him, Jared."

Fighting to control his quaking limbs, Jared stood up straight. “I think you should go,” he said as calmly as he could, though his heart was rabbitting in his chest.

“Jared, we need to talk about this,” Jensen pleaded, hand outstretched.

“There’s nothing to talk about,” Jared pointedly avoided Jensen’s eyes, staring at the hardwood floor Jensen had helped install as he moved toward the hallway.

Jensen’s anger flashed back, overtaking him faster than his mind could censor. He snatched hold of Jared’s wrist, grip firm but not bruising, and prevented him from leaving. “Yes, there is,” he assured the frightened man with a determined look. “We could start with your life with Timothy and end with you creating a new identity so you could run away.”

“Wh – What are you talking about?” Jared’s panic at being restrained coupled with the fear of what Jensen was implying, making his quaking intensify into a full body tremble.

Maintaining his staying hold on Jared’s wrist, Jensen reached out and grabbed the large magazine he had been thumbing through while Jared made dinner. It was the same one that Chad had brought with him when he visited during Thanksgiving and showcased the newest works by various artists. Tossing it on the island, he flipped the pages until he came across an article near the middle titled “Michaels Marvelous Mastery.” The accompanying photograph was nature’s palette on display, fall trees in a riot of colors, leaves varying from harvest gold to ruby red, against the backdrop of the snowcapped indigo of the Rockies, all nestled under a robin’s egg blue sky. 

“This is the latest photograph by Tristan Michaels,” Jensen jabbed a finger at the picture, “All the critics are triumphing it as early favorite for ‘Picture of the Year’.”

“Deputy…”

“You took that picture the day we went hiking with the boys for getting straight As on their report cards. I remember because you just stared at the mountains for the longest time before you ever raised your camera and I couldn’t decide which was more beautiful the scenery or you looking at it.” He released the magazine, the pages fanning over and closing. 

Jared’s arm was rigid under Jensen’s fingers. He tried to tug it away, but the older man refused to relinquish it. “Please, let me go,” Jared said emotionlessly, eyes focused on the door.

“Jared, please,” Jensen begged, grasp unconsciously tightening, “don’t shut me out. Talk to me. We can work through this together.”

Jared yanked his arm with more force and Jensen, realizing how hard he was gripping, uncurled his fingers. Jared brought his arm to his chest, cradling the slightly reddened wrist with his other hand. “Please, leave.”

“Jared, did I…”

Jared closed his eyes, jaw clenched. “Just go, Jensen.”

Jensen sighed and nodded. “I love you, Jared, but until we talk about this, we’re stuck in neutral,” he said solemnly, picking up his hat from the end of the counter, “When you’re ready to move forward, give me a call.”

Seating his hat on his head, he quietly made his way to the front door, oblivious to the double set of green watching from the upstairs landing. TJ threaded his fingers through his brother’s as the door shut.

 

* * *

 

Chris stepped into the Sheriff’s office whistling _Jingle Bells_ as he twirled his car keys around his index finger. A deep shudder coursed down his spine and radiated over his arms and legs when his chilled body was enveloped in the warm, heated space. Merrily, he rounded the counter and winked at Danneel, stopping in his tracks at the warning look she gave him. He raised an eyebrow in question, the jaunty tune slowly tapering off.

“Jensen’s on the war-path,” she whispered seriously, “Came in madder than a wet hen and things have only gone downhill since.”

“What happened?” Chris sat on the edge of her desk, voice lowered to match hers.

Danneel opened her mouth, but jumped instead as the door to the Deputy Sheriff’s office banged open and Jensen stormed into the main bullpen. 

“Damnit, Milo! How in blazes did you ever get hired here if you’re too incompetent to make a decent pot of coffee?” Jensen dumped a half-full cup of coffee down the sink and slammed his mug into the stainless basin. 

Milo visibly shrunk under the chastisement. “I – I made it the same way I always do,” he offered meekly.

“Yeah, well. It’s shit!” Jensen turned and leaned back against the counter, arms crossed over his chest.

“Jensen…” Chris started, feeling the need to come to Milo’s defense. His coffee _was_ shit, but Jensen didn’t need to crawl him across the floor because of it.

“Oh, Deputy Kane,” Jensen turned to face his friend, “how nice of you to grace us with your presence. You do know that that eight o’clock start time wasn’t a suggestion, right? Now, do you mind getting your keister off Danneel’s desk so one of you might get something done today?”

Chris bristled, the muscle in his jaw ticking from clenching his teeth together. Straightening, he pasted a hard smile on his face. “Of course, Deputy Sheriff Ackles,”he answered in a false friendly manner. “Do you have a minute? I’d like to discuss something with you.”

Jensen gave a tight nod and went into his office, leaving the door open for the deputy to follow. Chris weaved through the desks cluttering the main office, smiling warmly at Milo’s worried face as he passed. 

“What the hell crawled up your ass and died this morning?” Chris asked after shutting the office door.

Jensen set his pen down on the desk and glared at him. “Tread carefully, Kane. We may be friends, but I’m your superior and you are bordering close to insubordination.”

“Yes, _Ackles,_ ” Chris glared back, “we are friends, old ones, so I’m the only one not afraid to tell you that you’re being an ass. Attacking _Milo_? Really? Why don’t you just go down to the pound and kick some puppies or the elementary school and tell the kids there’s no Santa Claus?”

At the mention of the elementary school, Jensen paled. His eyes flicked to a picture, encased in a simple wooden frame in a place of pride on the corner of his desk, of him with Jared and the boys that someone took at Thanksgiving. They’d been wrestling on the floor of the living room, faces red from exertion and laughter, oblivious to the flash of the camera. It was one of Jensen’s favorite pictures, perfectly capturing the essence of them. Absently, he rubbed a hand over his chest where an ache had taken up residence since walking out Jared’s front door two days ago.

Chris’ heart sank at the wrecked look on his friend’s face and followed his gaze to the picture. It wasn’t hard to guess what had affected Jensen’s mood. Sighing, Chris dropped into the rickety chair in front of Jensen’s desk, the aged frame creaking as he tested its structural integrity. “When?”

Sad green eyes slowly rose to meet his and held before Jensen’s posture sagged, his carefully constructed façade and air of dissatisfaction crumbling. “Friday night,” Jensen’s voice was weary and Chris could clearly see the dark circles underlining his friend’s eyes. “I, uh,” Jensen bit the side of his bottom lip, a gesture Chris hadn’t seen since their freshman year of college, “I fucked up.” He shrugged, releasing his teeth’s hold on the sensitive flesh. “I promised myself, I wouldn’t push him, but…” Jensen heaved a sigh and shook his head slightly, gaze falling to the picture again.

“I’m assuming this has to do with Timothy beating him, right?”

Jensen’s widened eyes snapped to Chris’ face.

“You’re not the only detective around, Jen,” Chris said quietly, “I’ve noticed the signs. Kid’s scared out of his mind. I’ve thought all along that the only reason he allowed Sandy to babysit was because Milo was there and armed. Now, tell me what happened.”

Jensen leaned back in his chair and stared at the ceiling, telling the acoustic tiles about the clusterfuck that was Friday night. “I didn’t even say good-bye to the boys,” he huffed at the end of his tale.

“You try to talk to him yet?” Chris sat forward, earnest concern shining in his eyes.

“No,” Jensen rubbed a hand over his forehead, pressing against the space between his brows where he could feel the beginnings of a headache forming, “I left the ball in his court.” Lowering his head, he leveled the other man with a broken gaze. “I don’t want to lose them, Chris.” 

“I know it sucks, buddy, but you did the right thing.” Chris quickly held out his hand to stop Jensen’s protest, “Jared needs to talk to you about what happened with Timothy or it’ll destroy your relationship before it ever has a chance. That bastard will haunt every little thing you do if you let him.”

“I know that,” Jensen replied, indignantly, “don’t you think I know that? I just hope –“ 

Jensen’s intercom buzzed and Danneel’s staticy voice floated up from the small speaker on his desk phone. “Jensen, Sheriff Jones called. He’s on his way in and said he just passed the O’Leary property and their cows are out again. He wants you to send someone out there.”

“Great,” Jensen breathed out. “Thanks, Dani.”

“I got it,” Chris said, standing, “I’ll take Milo. Give him his first O’Leary experience.” Pausing at the door, he turned back to his friend. “It’ll be okay, Jensen. Jared loves you and he’s a smart kid. He’ll figure it out. In the mean time, go easier on everybody, okay? I don’t think Milo can take it. Guy’s already more skittish than a long-tailed cat in a room full of rocking chairs; he don’t need your foul mood riling him into some kind of nervous fit.”

Huffing a harsh laugh, Jensen nodded. “Hey, Chris,” he called when the other man opened the door to leave, “Thanks, man.”

Chris dipped his head once in acknowledgement. “Milo, get your gear. Looks like we’re playing wild, wild west for the afternoon. Got us some cattle to wrangle. _Yee-haw!_ ”

Jensen’s couldn’t help the full blown smile at Chris’ antics. Shaking his head and taking a deep breath, he turned back to the registration forms for a conference that Jones wanted him to take in February. He lost himself in filling in tiny boxes and checking off accommodation preferences, noting Sheriff Jones’ arrival with an absent wave as the older man passed his open office door. 

Sealing the envelope, he grimaced at the taste of the cheap glue on the flap. Rubbing his tongue along the roof of his mouth to dispel some of the bitter taste, Jensen stuck it out a few times. He glanced over at his phone when the intercom beeped.

“Jensen, Genevieve Cortese is on line one for you.”

 _Genevieve?_ It was a Monday morning, smack dab in the middle of the school day. What could she be calling for? “Thanks, Dani,” he managed around the unpleasant flavor lingering in his mouth. Grabbing his cup of coffee, mercifully remade by Danneel and brought to him a little while ago, he swallowed away the taste in a flood of dark, rich ground and picked up the receiver.

“Hey, Gen,” he greeted cheerfully, rocking back in his swivel chair and propping his foot up on the bottom drawer pull of his desk. His talk with Chris and an infusion of strong caffeine had worked wonders on his attitude. “You know I was joking about putting your students in kiddie jail if they gave you problems, right?”

“Hey, Jensen,” she answered, laughing at his remark, “Can’t say it doesn’t sound tempting from time to time, though. Listen, I was calling you about TJ.”

“TJ?” Jensen sat up straight in his chair, knee banging painfully with the side of his desk. “What’s the matter? Is he all right?”

“Calm down,” Genevieve soothed, “He’s sick. I just took his temperature and he’s running a fever. I tried to get Jared on his cell and at the studio, but both are ringing to voicemail. Do you have another number for him?”

“No, that’s all I got,” Jensen thumbed the screen of his cell to Jared’s contact numbers.

“The emergency contact listed on file is for his parents in Savannah. I’m not sure what to do.” He could hear her flipping through papers, probably TJ’s file.

“Let me tell you what I’m going to do,” Jensen queued up Jared’s mobile number on his cell, “I’m going to try Jared and if I can’t get him then I’ll come get Teej.”

“I don’t know,” Genevieve hesitated, “Jared didn’t authorize you to pick them up and Mr. Carlisle…”

“What’s he gonna do?” Jensen interrupted. “Call the sheriff’s office and have me arrested?”

He could practically hear her roll her eyes. “I suppose not. I, uh, guess I’ll see somebody soon then?”

“Yeah. Tell him to hold on, one of us will be there in a few minutes to pick him up.”

“I will. Thanks, Jensen.” 

At the dial tone, he hung up the phone and pressed the button on his cell to call Jared. Two calls and a handful of unanswered rings later, he gathered his hat and wallet, walking toward Sheriff Jones’ office.

“Sheriff?” He rapped his knuckles against the occluded glass in the door.

“Jensen! Haven’t seen your smiling face this morning,” Sheriff Jones, smirked, “or, if Danneel is to be believed, your grumpy one.”

“Yeah, sorry. Bad morning.” Jensen rubbed the back of his neck, embarrassed. Jones had served as Deputy Sheriff under Jensen’s grandfather and had been like an uncle to the boy growing up. He was one of the main reasons that Jensen’s had agreed to return to Plains County when things in Chicago had turned pear shaped. Even at thirty-two, Jones could still make Jensen feel all of five years old. “I, uh, just got a call from Gen down at the elementary school. TJ’s running a fever and she can’t get ahold of Jared. Is it okay if I go get him and take him home?” The request was common courtesy. Jones stalwartly believed that family was everything and, having had children of his own, understood that sometimes they needed to come first. It helped that he’d met Jared’s boys the day they came to visit and was entranced by the charming little devils while they were there.

Jones’ smile was wide as he considered Jensen. “Never thought I’d see the day,” he murmured, “Family man looks good on ya, son.” He’d always known that Jensen would make a great father someday.

“Tommy Lee,” Jensen sighed, “can this wait for another time? Sick kid, remember?”

“Oh, yeah,” Jones waved his hand dismissively, “go take care of your boy. Just call if you’re not gonna be in tomorrow. I was going to take the missus over to Plymouth Christmas shopping, but it won’t break my heart none if I need to come in to work. I swear she makes me go just to torture me.”

Jensen’s heart swelled at TJ being called his boy. “It’s her revenge for putting up with your crotchety ass all these years. I’ll call you tonight to let you know what’s going on.” Jensen pounded his fist lightly against the doorframe twice then left.

 

* * *

 

Jensen called Dr. Morgan on the way to the school. The Ackles family had been treated by a Morgan since settling in Wowakan in the late 1890s and JD was the latest in the line of trusted physicians. He made arrangements to run TJ by on the way home for a quick once over, knowing from experience with Austin’s sons that kids always tended to get sicker after the doctor’s office closed and wanted to nip it in the bud.

When he arrived at the school, TJ’s fever had worsened and Jensen gathered the ill boy in his arms and carried him to the car, despite the meek protests from his precious cargo.  At Dr. Morgan’s office, TJ curled up in his lap and dozed against his chest, rousing only during his examination. A prescription and a lollipop for later, along with one for his brother just to be fair, Jensen wrapped TJ up and headed home after a short stop at the drugstore.

 

* * *

 

Jared crumpled up his wrapper and shot it toward the garbage can, the paper making a perfect arch before dropping neatly in the bin. “Two points!” he crowed, pumping his fists in the air.

“Nice shot, Michael Jordan.” 

Jared startled, blushing at being caught in a moment of childishness.  “Hey, Amber. I’m almost done then I’ll set up for our one o’clock with the Bartons. Three kids and two adults, right?” 

“Don’t worry about that. I just checked the messages and there was one from the kids’ school. The woman said one of your boys was sick.” Amber placed a While You Were Out message in front of him with the school’s number.

“Oh crap!” Jared jumped up and went to his bag tucked in a back corner of the break room. Amber was easy going about most things, but was vehement that all cell phones be off and out of sight during sessions. Digging it out of the front pocket, he turned it on and groaned at the three missed calls – two from the school and one from Jensen.

Hitting redial, he waited impatiently for the secretary at the school to answer and transfer him to Genevieve. 

“Jared?”

“Gen! I’m so sorry. We’ve been on lunch and my cell was off. I’m on my way now. Is Teddy okay? I thought he was okay this morning. He was feeling better and wanted to go to school.” Everything came out in a rush and he hoped that she was able to follow.

“Jared, breathe. It happens, don’t worry. Jensen came and got him about an hour ago.” She replied, cheerily, moving the phone away from her mouth to remind Brady not to color on the desk.

“Jensen?” Jared sat down on one of the chairs stunned. 

“I called him to see if he had another number for you and he said if he couldn’t reach you, he’d come get TJ.” When Jared didn’t reply, she added nervously, “That was okay, right?” 

Shaking himself from his shocked silence, Jared cleared his throat. “Yeah, um, yeah. That’s fine. I was just surprised he was able to get away from work is all. I’ll, uh, I’ll leave work and come get Benji. I’m in Plymouth so it’ll be about half an hour.” He quirked an eyebrow at Amber and pressed his hands together in mock prayer, mouthing his thanks, at her shooing motion.

“You don’t have to unless you just want to. He seems to be feeling fine.  Hunter, please sit properly in that chair!” Genevieve chastised this time without the courtesy of moving the phone.

“I’ll come get him anyway. Usually when one comes down with something the other isn’t that far behind,” Jared slung his bag over his shoulder, tugging it around to the front to pull his keys from the side pouch.

“Don’t rush, we’ll be here,” Genevieve assured him, “Abby, we don’t hit.” There was an odd scraping noise, “I’m – Jared, I gotta’ go. I’ll see you when you get here.”

Jared shook his head as he closed his phone, silently thanking the universe for people with the patience to teach six-year-olds.

 

* * *

 

Jensen looked at the little boy curled against the arm of the couch. The television reflected in his slanted green eyes, the shape so like Jared's but the color a deeper, brighter shade. It was familiar and yet...not. Transfixed by the cartoon, TJ was oblivious to the older man's careful consideration as Jensen catalogued each feature, picking out the ones that were strictly Jared and trying to find Timothy in the ones that weren't. 

Fever glazed eyes turned to him breaking his scrutiny. "I want my Daddy," TJ whimpered, a lone tear tracking down flushed cheeks.

"I know, Teej, I know. He'll be here soon,” he wiped the tear away and brushed a strand of hair from the little boy’s forehead. TJ seemed so small against the oversized couch arm, quiet and scared, and Jensen was surprised at the protective feeling that rushed up inside of him. He desperately sought anything that might give him a glimpse of the energetic child he'd come to know. "You know, I don't think I ever heard what TJ stands for." 

TJ blinked at him owlishly, his fever addled brain trying to work through the words. "Theodore Joshua."

The answer took Jensen back more than the soft reply and it was his turn to blink uncomprehendingly. "Joshua?" He mumbled. The little boy nodded then shivered and Jensen pulled the blanket tighter around his small body. TJ's eyes drooped and Jensen rubbed his back until his breathing evened out and his eyes remained closed.

Jensen stared at the television, mind whirling. _Joshua_. Joshua was Austin’s first name, after their beloved uncle who’d spoiled all the Ackles children when they were younger and, tragically, lost his life to a hit and run driver when Jensen was in high school. Most people didn’t know, he’d always been called Austin, his middle name, by everyone around to avoid confusion, but Jared had been a part of the family and privy to most of the quirks, secrets and skeletons. Like how Alex sang Patsy Cline’s _Walking After Midnight_ when making the ice cream and Donna’s secret ingredient in her sugar cookies and that ‘Kota had her first kiss with William Taylor behind the barn on New Year’s Eve the year she turned fifteen and that if Jensen had a son he wanted his name to include his uncle’s in his honor. Why had Jared given TJ that name? Was it a coincidence?

“Deputy?”

“Uncle Jensen?”

Jensen blinked and looked over his shoulder at the front door where Jared was ushering in a bundled up Benji. “Shhh,” he placed his index finger to his lips, “he’s sleeping.”

Jared rushed over to the couch and crouched in front of his sleeping son, palming his forehead. “He’s still warm.”

“Yeah, I gave him some Motrin when we got home about,” he checked his watch, “two hours ago. Doc said to give him some Tylenol about now then alternate the Motrin and Tylenol every two hours until it broke,” he stood and ran his hands down his thighs, drying his nervous palms, not sure Jared’s feelings about him being here. “I, uh, I picked up his antibiotic on the way home and he’s had the first dose. I also got him some orange juice and those frosted animal crackers he likes so much.” Jared continued to stare at him with an odd expression and it only increased his nerves. “Okay, then. I, um, I guess I’ll go. I made some chili, it’s warming on the stove. So, yeah.” Turning to Benji, he ruffled the boy’s hair. “You be good for your dad, buddy, and help him with your brother.”

“Yes, Uncle Jensen,” Benji nodded forlornly and slid on the couch next to his brother, encircling the sick boy in his arms.

Smiling at the twins curled up together, he swallowed and walked to the front door. 

“Deputy?”

Jensen stopped, hand almost to his hat lying on the table in the entry. He looked back and saw Jared standing in the opening to the living room, that unreadable look still on his face. He held his breath when Jared moved closer.

“You took him to the doctor?”

“Yeah, he was really sick. Look, I know I took a lot on myself today without your say-so – picking him up and carrying him to JD’s and if I was out of line, I’m sorry. I…”

“You got his medicine,” Jared interrupted, voice almost awed, “and his favorite snacks and took care of him. You made dinner!” 

Jensen eyed him warily, trying to understand where the conversation was going. “Yeah, Jared, I did,” he replied like it should have been obvious. “That’s what you do for someone you love. You take care of them.” He grabbed his hat and stared at the silk lining, needing to get out before he did something stupid like beg Jared to let him stay. 

“Jensen,” Jared’s voice was soft and when Jensen looked up he was surprised to see the man had come so close. “Stay?” He tugged the brim, gently pulling the hat, “Please?”

“Jared,” Jensen sighed, torn. “Nothing’s changed. We still need to talk.”

“I know,” Jared whispered, “We will, I promise.”

Deliberating for a minute, Jensen nodded. “Okay, Jared.”

 

* * *

 

They ate their chili huddled around on the couch, surrounding TJ in a cocoon of comfort and love and watching a holiday special marathon. TJ’s fever broke sometime around the end of Rudolph and by the time Frosty was melting in the hothouse his eyes were clear and his cheeks had lost their flush.  

“I think they’re out,” Jared whispered sometime later, cutting his eyes to the sleeping boys between them.

Jensen glanced down and felt his heart warm at tousled hair and angelic faces. “Looks like.”

“Wanna help me put them in bed?”

“Yeah,” Jensen slowly got to his feet, careful not to jostle the slumbering twins. He reached down and scooped up TJ, who’d snuggled up against him, cradling him against his chest as he ascended the stairs. He tucked him beneath his flannel sheets and ran his fingers through the soft locks. Sleepy green looked up at him and a small, soft smile pulled at a miniature version of Jared’s mouth.

“Good night, Teej.”

“Deputy?” TJ’s voice was quiet and Jensen almost missed it.

“You need something, sweetheart?”

“Can I call you Papa Jensen?”

Jensen was at a loss for words and glancing at Jared for guidance it seemed the other man was too. After a moment Jared seemed to pull himself together and nodded. Smiling down, Jensen nodded, too. “If that’s what you want.”

“Good,” TJ said sleepily, eyes drooping, “You can call me,” he yawned widely, “Teddy if you want.”

“I’d like that. Now, get some sleep so you can get better, okay?”

“’kay,” Teddy’s eyes closed, “Night, Papa Jensen.”

 “Night, Teddy Bear,” he leaned down and pressed a kiss to Teddy’s forehead.

He traded beds with Jared and kissed Benji on the head, “Night, Benji boy.”

“Night, Papa Jensen,” Benji answered, a happy glint to his eyes.

Smiling dopily, Jensen followed Jared out, shutting the door behind him. Jared stood beside him a look of disbelief and awe on his face like a kid sneaking down and finding Santa putting gifts under the tree. Long fingers threaded with Jensen’s and gently guided him down the hall and into Jared’s bedroom. 

“Jared, what – “

Jensen words died on a kiss, long, passionate and full of promise, his heart quickening when Jared gently pushed the bedroom door shut.

 

 


	12. Chapter 12

Jared nudged the door shut with the heel of his shoe, the quiet click drowned out by his own moan when Jensen licked into his mouth. His hands slid up Jensen’s arms over the rounds of his shoulders, fingers gripping the material of his shirt tightly to pull them closer together. They stumbled trying to move as one, feet entangling as bodies refused to separate, Jared grunting when his back came up hard against the door jamb.

“Sorry,” Jensen mumbled between kisses, shifting them to the side and pressing the younger man into the wood paneled door. Jared tugged him harder, eliminating any space between them and dismissing his concerns.

Jensen’s fingers drifted up, curling as shaggy chestnut silk ghosted over them, fisting the soft strands in calloused palms. Instinctively, their heads tilted to opposing angles, the kiss at the convergent apex deepening. Breaking for breath, Jensen’s lips blazed a path over Jared’s cheek to the long line of his neck. 

“God, Jen,” Jared moaned softly, mindful of young ears nearby. He yanked at Jensen’s shirt, pulling it from his waistband, and attacked the small buttons, fingers numb and incompetent with lust. Cool air caressed the skin of his back, gooseflesh rising in its wake, and he temporarily aborted his mission to remove Jensen’s shirt to lift his arms for Jensen to vest him of his. Skin bare, he returned to his earlier endeavor, sensitive pads desperate to touch.

Jensen pulled back slightly, taking in the sight of Jared’s lightly muscled body. He was gorgeous and Jensen couldn’t stop staring. It was the first time he’d seen Jared completely without a shirt. During their previous make out sessions, Jared’s shirt had been unbuttoned or rucked under his armpits, but never fully removed. Jensen had respected Jared’s modesty, knowing that the younger man still had some body image and self-confidence issues, but seeing the gloriously toned form beneath him, Jensen wished he’d been able to look and touch before. His hands cupped Jared’s face and pressed their foreheads together, green eyes searching in question. “You sure?” Jensen’s warm, soft breath fanned over Jared’s spit-slick lips causing tingles to erupt along the swollen flesh.

“I want this,” Jared murmured, their mouths brushing with each word. “I want _you_ ,” he amended. Bringing his hands up to rest on either side of Jensen’s, forefingers and thumbs gently cradling his jaw, he caught his mouth again. 

Instantly craving more, Jensen parted his lips, tongue asking permission that Jared immediately granted. He snaked the questing muscle inside and reveled in the quiet groan he felt rumble up from Jared’s throat. He wrested the last few buttons of his shirt free and Jared’s hands urgently slipped under the open material, caressing the smooth, muscled chest beneath before guiding the fabric over Jensen’s shoulders and down his arms. Overheated skin, slick with sweat, met and slid together intensifying their need, smoldering embers joining to ignite into a flash flame. Jensen insinuated his leg between Jared’s, the younger man’s engorged member nestling into the crook of his hip as Jensen’s powerful thigh gently nuzzled his desire-heavy balls. Jensen’s hands circled Jared’s waist, fingers running up the trench of his spine.  Jared’s lips stuttered, the kiss faltering for a brief moment, as he pressed hard against the door, preventing Jensen’s hands from reaching his upper back.

“Unh,” Jared turned his head to the side and panted, eyes clenched shut as he rocked against Jensen, the older man lavishing attention on his neck. His fingers dug into his lover’s back, red crescent moons waxing under his nails, Jensen’s hiss against his neck sending shivers down his spine as teeth bit into corded muscle in desirous retaliation. 

Hands danced over his ribs and skirted down his flanks, Jared’s shivers intensifying into full body shudders that deepened his rut against Jensen’s leg. Blunt nails traced a tickling path along the waistband of Jared’s tan khakis to the front, fingers freeing the button with an adept twist of the wrist and sliding the zipper down one torturously slow tooth at a time. Jensen’s hand dipped into the open vee, palming the heated cotton-encased hardness.

“Jen!” Jared arched his back, body moving toward the source of warmth and pressure. One hand came up to hold Jensen’s head in place when the other man found a particularly erotic spot where neck met shoulder, hips grinding his aching need into Jensen’s hand. He tilted his head down, licking a wet stripe around the shell of Jensen’s ear and sucking on the lobe, smiling victoriously when Jensen bucked against his hip at the sensation. “Please!” he breathed over the moist skin, getting a bite to _that_ spot in reward. Jensen wasn’t the only one that remembered exactly what buttons to push.

 “I got ya, baby.” Jensen leaned his forehead against Jared’s shoulder, heaving breath pebbling Jared’s sensitive nipple and eliciting another groan from the man beneath him. He’d forgotten how responsive Jared was, the slightest touch wracking his body in overloading sensation. He hooked his thumbs under the waistbands of Jared’s pants and boxer-briefs, working them over the swell of Jared’s ass and letting gravity carry them the rest of the way down to puddle around Jared’s ankles. His palms smoothed over the pale mounds, splaying wide and kneading the cheeks, his mouth moving back up to take Jared’s in a heated kiss. He groaned in appreciation, his cock throbbing in gratitude, when Jared worked open the fly of his work pants, the fabric joining Jared’s on the floor with little encouragement.

They continued to kiss, hands exploring newly exposed skin, tactilely remembering the flesh they used to know so well, as they worked to kick off their shoes and free their feet from their pants. Standing unrestricted, Jensen trailed his hands down the back of Jared’s thighs, bending his knees as he hefted the taller man and situated Jared’s long legs around his waist. Even with the muscle and pounds that Jared had gained under the careful watch of Jensen, he was still slim enough for Jensen to support his weight. 

Jared made a noise of surprise then locked his ankles behind Jensen’s back and wrapped his arms over Jensen’s shoulders. Jensen’s hard length teased over his entrance with each rut, Jensen’s strong hands palming the cheeks, separating them to ease the glide of the pre-come slick head with each pass. “Oh God!” Jared gasped, writhing in the other man’s arms.

Grunting, Jensen pulled them away from the wall and, staggering slightly under the added weight, carried Jared to the bed. He lowered him to the mattress, crawling on the edge to follow the younger man as Jared scooted back toward the middle of the bed. Stalking his prey, Jensen moved between Jared’s invitingly spread legs, his hands on either side of Jared’s shoulders as he hovered above the flushed man. He dipped his head down, stealing a kiss from Jared’s lips, then blazed a wet, sensual trail over neck and chest, sucking one nipple then the other just for the sounds of pleasure Jared made. 

Rising up on the elbows bracketing Jared’s ribs, Jensen looked up at the other man. “Please God, Jared, tell me you’ve got something.”

Nodding his head, Jared flung an arm toward the nightstand, ineffectually pawing at the drawer knob. Chuckling quietly, Jensen leaned over and pulled the drawer open, sighing in relief at the bottle of lube next to a book of crossword puzzles and a dog-eared copy of The Hobbit. Tossing the lube on the bed, he shifted the books to the side and frowned. Removing them completely, the drawer now empty, he quirked an eyebrow at his boyfriend. “Condom?” 

Jared flung an arm over his eyes and groaned in frustration. “Don’t need them when it’s a one man show.”

Jensen huffed a laugh and slowly got up from the bed. Jared’s arm flew away from his face and he quickly sat up on his elbows. “You’re not leaving, are you?” he asked, his voice edged in unsatisfied desperation.

“Relax,” Jensen assured, ducking down to place a calming kiss to Jared’s lips. He crossed to his pants and dug his wallet from the back pocket. Opening the billfold, he tucked a finger under one of the flaps and pulled something from the depths. Holding up the foil wrapped package for Jared to see, he smirked and sauntered back to the bed.

“My hero,” Jared breathed, pulling the older man back down on top of him.

“Don’t you forget it, either,” Jensen teased, setting the condom and lube next Jared’s hip where it would be in easy reach. He kissed Jared again then made his way back to where he’d left off. The tip of his nose traveled down the line between defined abs, circling the navel before delving his tongue inside. 

Jared twisted and writhed, body trying to get closer and farther away at the same time. Jensen lightly held him down with hands spread wide over his ribcage and his hands roved up the toned arms to rub over Jensen’s muscled shoulders. He jerked in surprise at a pull on the skin below his bellybutton, looking down and laughing at Jensen tugging gently of the downy hair with his teeth. Winking playfully, Jensen released the fine hairs and mouthed his way further down.

His mouth hovered over Jared’s engorged member, warm breaths causing it to jerk and twitch with each exhale. Jared threaded his fingers in Jensen’s hair, urging the man on, and when Jensen licked a broad strip from base to tip they tightened around the strands almost to the point of pain. 

“Easy, tiger,” Jensen gently reminded, the grip loosening immediately. One hand encircled the base of Jared’s cock, lazily stroking up the shaft, while the other grabbed the lube. Shifting up on his knees, he swirled his tongue over the spongy head and dug the tip into Jared’s slit, gathering the pearl of pre-come that had gathered there. 

Jared arched and thrashed, his fingers slamming down on the mattress to fist in the sheets. He distractedly heard the click of a cap, but it was forgotten as wet heat surrounded the head of his dick, Jensen’s mouth creating a perfect suction. He bucked up, trying to get Jensen to take more of him in, but the older man just moved with him. Relaxing back, he jolted slightly as something wet circled his entrance, pressing against the furled pucker and retreating. He rocked back and forth chasing the teasing touches, desperate for both but catching neither. His growl of frustration was cut off, morphing into a blissed groan as Jensen sank his mouth down Jared’s shaft and his finger past Jared’s muscled ring. He set up a rhythm, mouth and hand moving in synch, adding fingers slowly – a second then a third until Jared was a panting, writhing, incomprehensible mess. When Jared was reduced to whimpers, Jensen pulled off of him with a loud slurp and watched as he crooked his fingers up.

“Jesus Christ!” Jared bowed off the bed, grabbing one of the pillows to cover his face to muffle the loud moan that erupted as Jensen stroked the bundle of nerves again. 

“Nope, just Jensen,” Jensen smirked, slithering up Jared’s body, dropping kisses along the way. He pulled the pillow away and gazed into lust-blown hazel eyes. He ripped open the condom and unrolled it down his length, slick fingers passing over it. Dropping all pretense, his face grew serious. “You ready for me, baby?”

“Yeah,” Jared panted, “yeah. I’m good. Just – just go slow. Been a-while.” His hands groped at Jensen’s shoulders – pulling, pushing, shoving, grabbing – in an attempt to maneuver the other man between his legs. 

Jensen resisted Jared’s urging hands, gently nudging his hip. “Roll over. It’ll be easier, if it’s been a while.” Jensen forced the words out, his body screaming at him to shut up and get with the program.

“No!” Jared pressed his shoulders deeper into the mattress and shook his head, “I – I. Like this.” 

“Okay, Jay, okay.” He kissed the furrow that had appeared between Jared’s eyes, smiling when the worry wrinkled skin smoothed out. He slotted himself between Jared’s thighs, clenching his teeth, eyes rolling up, when the oversensitive head of his demanding cock pressed against the heat of Jared’s prepared entrance. “God, Jay, you sure about this? You gotta be sure? I can stop, but you gotta tell me right now. Please, Jared.” His voice was rough from his early ministrations, but the need was evident in the tone and his ramblings.

Jared smiled up at the babbling man and lay his fingers over Jensen’s swollen lips, silencing the flow of words. “Jensen,” Jared said softly and Jensen abruptly quieted. Jared rarely used his full name unless he wanted his full attention. “I’m ready.” He spread his legs farther apart and lifted his hips, tucking the pillow he’d used to stifle his cries under his ass.

Nodding, Jensen leaned down and kissed him. He hooked one of Jared’s legs over his shoulder, hand wrapping around the thigh to hold it in place, while the other guided him forward into Jared’s welcoming body. He gasped when the mushroom head popped past the initial resistance and stilled, giving Jared a moment to adjust. When the internal muscles relaxed from the pain of the intrusion, Jensen slowly – oh so slowly – pushed in until he was sheathed completely in the velvet heat of Jared’s body. He froze, head resting against the prominent wing of Jared’s collarbone and waiting for Jared to give him the go ahead.

Jared was full, so very full. In the years with Timothy, enjoying sex had become a distant memory. Everything was about Timothy – providing his pleasure, slaking his needs and, more often than not, satiating his temper. He wiggled his hips, Jensen’s shaft embedded in him shifting to rub along his prostrate, Jared biting his lips to force back the moan. “I’m good, Jen. Move, please. Please!”

Jensen slid out slightly and rocked forward again, battling his own urgent need in order to go slow and not hurt his lover.  With each thrust, he pulled out more and thrust back in harder, mashing their lips together so they could swallow each other’s moans. They moved together, the years disappearing with each thrust as they fell into familiar motions, bodies recognizing the other and moving on muscle memory to the angle that would provide them both with the most intense sensation. The interceding time, the knowledge acquired from experience, added an exciting element like playing a favorite song in a different octave. It was old and comforting and new and thrilling at the same time.

Jared could feel heat pooling along his spine, the tingle that foretold his impending orgasm. “Jen, Jen, Jen,” he swallowed, “I’m, oh God, I’m close. I’m…” His words trailed off on a moan, fingers digging deeper into the flesh of Jensen’s back.

“Me, too,” Jensen panted, hips pistoning in faster. He’d been staving off his own release, not wanting to reach his peak before Jared. He shifted his legs on the bed, opening them wider, and moved Jared’s leg from his shoulder to his waist. He pushed in hard and deep, pegging Jared’s prostrate directly. His hand curled around Jared’s weeping member, red and throbbing in time with his heartbeat.

“Oh, God,” Jared jackknifed up, body falling back to the bed, “I – Jen!” His internal muscles clenched, body convulsing as Jensen hit the bundle of nerves again, “Jen! Papa!” The twins calling Jensen ‘Papa’, Teddy’s first true indication of acceptance of the older man, had been echoing in his mind and the word slipped out without conscious intention. He only had a moment to worry about Jensen’s reaction to it as thick come erupted from his cock, painting his stomach and chest in the evidence of his ecstasy, starbursts flashing along his vision.

Jensen’s pelvis stuttered, rhythm faltering at Jared calling him Papa, his orgasm overtaking him so fast it stole his breath. “Unh, unh, unh,” he grunted through the aftershocks, falling forward over Jared’s body.

Jared’s arms enveloped Jensen’s body, his fingers stroking down the other man’s spine as he tried to master his breathing. Jensen pressed small kisses to the sweaty column of Jared’s throat, humming contentedly at the loving caress. Rising up on his elbow, he stared down at his boyfriend in awe, fingers tracing down Jared’s cheek.

“That was amazing,” Jensen smirked, pressing a kiss to Jared’s smiling lips.

“If you don’t say so yourself,” Jared teased, leaning up into the kiss.

“I am pretty awesome,” Jensen rubbed the tip of his nose against Jared’s, rolling off the younger man and wincing in sympathy at the hiss he received when he slid free of Jared’s body. 

“You _are_ my hero,” Jared reminded, “You always carry a condom in your wallet?” He asked, watching Jensen tie the used rubber closed and toss it in the garbage beside the bed.

“Since Austin gave me my first one in high school,” Jensen smirked, pale moonlight glinting in his mischievous eyes.

“Oh please,” Jared laughed, flopping on his back, “tell me that condom hasn’t been in your wallet for fifteen years.”

Levering up from the bed, Jensen walked into the bathroom. “Nah,” he called though the open doorway, the sound of running water following the word. “Ten at the most,” he added, coming back in with a wet washcloth.

“Good to know,” Jared rolled his eyes, sighing when Jensen wiped him clean.

Jensen tossed the washcloth in the direction of the laundry hamper and settled on his back, arms open in invitation. He smiled when Jared rolled into them and nestled against his side, kissing the mop of brown hair and chuckling when Jared yawned widely. “Get some sleep, Jay. Tomorrow, we talk.”

“Mmm-hmmm,” Jared hummed, eyes drooping shut as he nuzzled into the crook of Jensen’s neck. He drifted off to the smell of Jensen’s heated skin and the steady beat of his heart.

 

* * *

 

Later, Jensen lay on his side next to Jared as he dozed on his stomach. The younger man had shifted in his sleep and Jensen was taking the opportunity to soak in the sight of the long lines of Jared’s back. It had always been Jensen’s favorite part of Jared’s body. Well, maybe not favorite, but in the top three. 

His fingers trailed lightly down an unfamiliar patch of scars in the middle of the man’s back, the healed tissue deep and thick, marring the perfect expanse. He traced each line, following the jagged paths and feeling the smooth, raised flesh. The longest was almost four inches and was the thickest, the injury here the greatest, and Jensen couldn’t imagine what would leave that type of reminder. Jared’s affinity for keeping his shirt on and his reluctance to let Jensen see or touch this section of skin was becoming glaringly apparent. Jared was self-conscious of the marks and didn’t want Jensen to see. 

Jared’s shoulders shifted slightly and he began to wake at the touch. Jensen continued to follow the lines, memorization in touch, as if their origin would suddenly become clear.

“You okay?” Jared asked, sleepily.

Jensen hesitated. He wanted to ask, to know, but he was reluctant to break the peaceful contentment that surrounded them. “Nothing,” he murmured quietly and pressed a kiss to Jared’s neck.  

Jared considered Jensen in the weak light, rubbing groggily at his slumber heavy eyelids. “You wanna try that again?”

 “Where did you get these?” Jensen ran his lips over the scars, tongue tracing each one, feeling Jared shiver at the whisper light touch. He stretched his arm out across the pillows and rested his cheek on his bicep.

Jared’s eyes flew fully open and he quickly turned over, realizing what Jensen had seen. “It’s nothing,” Jared dismissed, scooting closer to the edge of the bed. 

“That’s a pretty big nothing, Jared.” Jensen tried to keep the tone light, but the seriousness of the situation sharpened the edge of the words. “You promised we’d talk about this. No more secrets, remember?”

“I – I know,” Jared stammered, face toward the dark window pane, the cold night pressing against the glass. “It’s just…can’t we…I just want to put it behind me. Get past it and move on.”

“That’s just it, Jay. You can’t pretend it didn’t happen. Even if you don’t mean for it to, it’s always hanging over our relationship, coloring everything we do. Sooner or later it will become an issue.” He placed a finger over Jared’s lips, mimicking the younger man’s motion earlier to quiet him. “It will. The only way to get past it, is to move through it.”

Jared searched Jensen’s open, honest eyes. He didn’t want to do this, he didn’t want to relive those years and he certainly didn’t want to lose Jensen over it. 

Sensing Jared’s hesitance, Jensen settled on his back. “Come here.” 

Jared shifted closer, resting his neck over Jensen’s outstretched arm and pressing their temples together. He bit his lip and stared at the ceiling, fear still paralyzing his voice.

“Nothing you could say could make me leave, Jared,” Jensen assured, threading his fingers with the ones lying on Jared’s stomach, “I love you and nothing that jackass did would ever change that.”

 Jared blinked away the tears forming in the corners of his eyes. He’d only ever told Chad about what had happened to him under Timothy’s roof and his best friend had already witnessed some of the worst beforehand. Now, there was so much more to lose. Not just for him, but for the twins as well. Jensen was the father figure Jared always wanted for them – a role model to pattern their lives after. Timothy had taken so much from their lives, he didn’t want him to take Jensen too. He sighed shakily trying to steel himself. Jensen was right though, he couldn’t let this come between them. If he did then he was allowing Timothy to tear them apart. Throwing up a silent prayer, he swallowed. 

“A-about two weeks after you left, Chad had enough of my moping ass – his words not mine – and decided what I really needed was a night out,” The beginning of the story was easy; it was the middle and end that would be hard. “He dragged me down to The Plank with the intention of getting me drunk. It wasn’t long before I was sitting at the bar alone, talking to Kevin and nursing my second beer, while Chad was off chasing some girl. Next thing I know, Timothy is sitting beside me. We talked for a while and I know I ordered a third beer, but I don’t remember much after that. I woke up the next morning in Timothy’s bed with a hell of a hangover and no idea how I got there. We met up a few times after that, casual stuff, and I made sure to only drink soda and go home alone.”

Jared blew out a harsh breath. “Around Spring Break, I got really sick. There was a terrible stomach flu going around campus. I spent a week on the floor of the bathroom before Momma came and forced me to go to the doctor,” he gave a mirthless chuckle. “Turns out it wasn’t the flu. I, God Jen, I was terrified. I mean, you know I always wanted kids, but I didn’t necessarily want one right then. I still had a half a semester left of school and that internship at the magazine. I didn’t know what to do – I was lost,” Jared shook his head, shivering at the memory of how alone and scared he felt.

“When Timothy found out, he was ecstatic. He insisted I move in with him so he could keep an eye on me, make sure me and the baby were taken care of. He was so good to me during my pregnancy. Carrying the twins was hard on me and I nearly miscarried twice. I spent weeks on bed rest.  Then a month before my due date, my water broke.”

Jared shifted on the bed, curling in toward Jensen’s chest, taking comfort. This is where the story got darker and he took a deep breath, going on when he felt Jensen’s fingers combing through his hair. “If I thought I was scared when I found out I was pregnant, it was nothing compared to the idea that the babies were too early. It was a hard labor and I hemorrhaged, almost died in the delivery room from what they told me, but the boys both came out healthy. Timothy was a little colder after they were born, but honestly I was so busy trying to manage two babies that I didn’t have time to really care.”

Jensen pulled him in closer and pressed a kiss to his temple. He knew they were delving into the part of the tale that Jared was the most reluctant to tell and he wanted him to feel his support. “When did things change?” Jensen prompted when Jared’s pause drew out.

“The twins’ first Christmas,” Jared answered, softly, “The boys were a little over three months old and knee deep in colic. Between the two of them, I rarely slept and Timothy was frigid. He didn’t want anything to do with the boys and was upset that they required so much of my attention. It wasn’t exactly a pleasant home environment. My folks invited us to The Keys for the holiday. They rented that bungalow on the beach again. You remember it? The same one they had the year your family came down and met us?” At Jensen’s nod, he continued, “It was nice. Momma and Aubrey doted on the babies so much I actually got a moment to breathe and Gavin was there with his new girlfriend. Most importantly, Timothy was working on some big merger and couldn’t go so I could finally relax.  When I told my family about what was going on, they begged me to leave Timothy and come home. Mom and Aubrey promised to help me with the kids and Gavin had a room above the garage I could stay in until I was able to get a job. It didn’t take much to convince me. Already Timothy scared me a little,” Jared admitted, whispering it like a confession. “We – we made the arrangements in those four days. Gavin had a friend go in and air out the room and we called to rent a moving truck for the day after I got back. Timothy would be at work and, with the few things I owned, we’d be completely out of the house before he got home.”

Jensen shifted his arm under Jared’s head so his fingers could trace lightly over the younger man’s chest. He watched as Jared took a steadying breath, fortifying himself to finish his tale. “The night I got home, I was concentrating so hard on acting normal that I didn’t notice something about Timothy was off until it was too late. Instead of calling my cell phone as instructed, the rental truck company had called the house phone to confirm the pick-up time. Timothy was furious. It - it was the first night he ever hit me,” Jared swallowed a sob, wetness gathering along his lashes. He stiffened when Jensen tried to pull him closer, knowing that if he settled into the older man’s comfort, he would break down completely. He needed to finish this, uncertain if he stopped now, he’d be able to start again. He closed his eyes and calmed his nerves, trying to detach himself, retell everything like a summary of a book he’d read and not his own life. “When he’d vented his anger, he stood over me and told me that if I ever tried to leave him again, tried to tell anyone, he’d hurt me, he’d take the boys away from me. I couldn’t lose my sons.” 

“It went on that way for a while, the idea of him taking them making me stay. I could endure anything but losing them. I learned what things were going to make him mad and tried to avoid doing them, to lay still and let him finish. Of course, once I’d figure one out, he’d find twelve others to replace it. At first he was apologetic, he’d beat me almost silly before work then show up after with Godiva chocolate and tiger lilies,” Jared shuddered, lip twitching in a sneer, “I hate the smell of both now. Sometimes if he was particularly brutal, it would be jewelry. He’d mother-hen me and nurse me to health and things would be fine until the next time. The scars on my back,” he unconsciously rolled more on his back to hide them, whimpering in distress when Jensen curled him back into his chest, “they were from throwing me into a full length mirror. I got twenty five stitches and a sapphire ring. When he broke two of my ribs, it was a gold bracelet. The time he landed me in the hospital,” Jared paused, “I came home to a Rolex. Gradually he became less and less sorry until he got to the point of almost enjoying it.”

Jensen silently seethed, impotent anger without the proper outlet. Jared talked about everything that had happened to him with a disconnected tone, a painful memory you’d found acceptance in. He held Jared tighter, wishing he could erase the past. Go back and change everything.

“He was convinced that my family was the reason I was going to leave him. He forbade me from seeing or talking to them. When my Dad had his heart attack, I - I wasn’t allowed to go see him,” Jared buried his face in Jensen’s neck, shame flushing his face and disgust turning his stomach. “My phone call to Momma was what got me my extended stay at Memorial. There were other little things that I didn’t really think about until I was gone – my weight, more children.”

“More children?” Jensen’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. “I thought you said he didn’t want anything to do with the twins. Why would he want more children?”

“No clue,” Jared shook his head, “He kept pressuring me to try for more, but I always put him off. Told him that the doctor didn’t think it was advisable after what happened with the twins’ delivery. It wasn’t exactly a lie; the doctor did say I should be cautious. I caught him one time messing with my birth control. He’d replaced my normal prescription with a pack of sugar pills. I only realized it because my doctor had just changed the brand I was on because the other was giving me headaches. After that I kept my real pills hidden. I think he was under the impression that if we had more kids, I’d be bound to him.”

They lay in silence, Jensen’s hand soothingly rubbing over Jared’s chest, each man lost in his thoughts. Outside, a light snow had started to fall, dusting the ground in a thin layer of powder that would be gone in the morning sun.

“How did you get away?”

Jared startled as the question broke the quiet. He turned his head to look at Jensen and smiled softly. “Chad. Timothy always underestimated him. He thought Chad was an idiot so he was the only one of my friends I was still allowed to see. I think Chad suspected for a long time, but after the hospital there was no hiding it from him.”

“How so?” Jensen kept his face placid. Chad had told him about Jared being in the hospital, but he didn’t want Jared to think his friend had betrayed his confidence. 

“I was always worried that one day Timothy would take it too far, that he would actually kill me so I taught the boys that if anything happened to me that they should go to Uncle Chad. They were four when they found me on the floor bleeding and unconscious and Benji called 911. He demanded anyone who’d listen contact Chad. According to the paramedics and the nurses, he was quite a sight to behold. Afterwards, I told Chad everything and we devised a plan for me to disappear.” Jared smirked at Jensen. “You know that crazy bastard has quite the business mind. All of my work as Jared Padalecki was owned by Olyphant-Padalecki Originals so basically all my money was controlled by him. I couldn’t touch any of it. I needed to a way to set aside some money so the boys and I wouldn’t be destitute when we left. Chad helped me set-up a distribution company CJ Productions and I started selling pictures under the name Tristan Michaels – CJ for Chad and Jared and Tristan Michaels was a combination of our middle names. Jared Padalecki retired to spend more time with his family and Tristan Michaels became the _it_ photographer. For the next two years, we worked like mad men. We used CJ Productions to buy this house and a couple of new identities.”

“New identities?” Jensen frowned.

“Yeah. In every legal sense, we are Jared Michaels and his sons, Theodore and Benjamin Michaels. Padalecki isn’t that common of a last name and anybody who knew anything about photography would recognize it.”

“How is it I never knew you changed your last name?”

“The perks of living in a town that operates on a first name basis,” Jared shrugged.

“What made you finally leave?” Jensen pressed his palm flat over Jared’s heart and nuzzled the side of his head.

“I was planning on leaving the next week, had already packed and hidden our bags and made arrangements. Chad had this house ready for us to move in and Tristan Michaels had accumulated a decent sized bank account. Timothy and I attended a charity function and he was mad when we came home. Every time we went to those things, he found someone to accuse me of trying to seduce and that night it was a business associate, Josh Duhamel. The kids were still awake, their babysitter, Emily, loved them too much to be strict. Timothy said something about Teddy and Benji defended him. I saw the hit coming and jumped between them. He’d never tried to hit one of the boys before and that was the last straw. I couldn’t stay, not another week, not another day. I refused to let him hurt the boys. He beat me unconscious and used me that night, but at least he left the kids alone. Of course, I brought some of that on myself,” Jared murmured thoughtfully. “I listened for him to leave the next morning, gathered the kids and our things and we hit the road and I’ve tried to never look back.”

“Jesus, Jared,” Jensen slid out from underneath his boyfriend, propping himself up on his elbow so he could look down on the younger man. “Why didn’t you call me? You had to know that I would help you.”

Jared bit his bottom lip, his eyes flicking to the window where specks of white were sticking to the pane. Deliberating for a minute, he sighed. “I did.”

Jensen jerked back. “What are you talking about? You never called me.”

“Yeah, I did. I called you right after I found out I was pregnant.” Jared looked back over and his face told Jensen clearly that he didn’t want to tell him something. “I was scared and confused and needed a friend. For a year and a half, that was you and I just wanted to talk to you. I tried your cell every day for a week, but it just rang. Then one day I got a not in service recording.”

Jensen rubbed a hand down his face and flopped back on the mattress. “Around March sometime, right?” He asked, remembering Jared said he found out he was pregnant near Spring Break. When Jared nodded, he rested his head in his hand. “I lost my cell chasing this scumbag child abuser and it took the phone company a week to replace it. I was using a loaner from the department. Why didn’t you call Momma? She would have gotten a-hold of me. Hell, she would have come and got you herself.”

“I called your Momma’s house,” Jared said quietly, twisting his fingers together. “I talked to Dakota and asked for your number, but wouldn’t tell her why I wanted it. She told me that you’d moved on, that you had a new boyfriend in Chicago and you were happy. She said that I made my choice and it didn’t include you or your family and I just needed to leave you be so you could build a new life. I wanted you to be happy, Jensen. Hell, that’s all I ever wanted for you so I didn’t try again.” 

“What?” Jensen levered up, staring at Jared in disbelief. If his meddling sister had kept her nose out of his business, Jared might have been spared the last six years of his life. He and Jared could have…“Jared I never had a boyfriend in Chicago. Why would she say…That’s why you thought I was with someone the day I saw you at Misha’s,” he muttered with dawning realization.

Jared smiled. “Yeah. I always hoped that you’d found someone great and were living this fabulous life. Don’t be mad at her. She was young and I think in some ways she thought I abandoned her and the family when I decided not to follow you to Chicago.”

“Jared!” Jensen sighed, exasperated. “If she hadn’t acted like a spoiled brat things could have been different. You and the twins could have had a better life.”

“It worked out in the end, right?” Jared sat up and cupped Jensen’s cheek, thumb tracing the freckles that normally weren’t noticeable, but his angry flush had darkened. He kissed Jensen when the older man just leveled him with a hard stare. “Right?” He continued to pepper kisses to Jensen’s mouth, trying to thaw the frigid expression on his lover’s face. He couldn’t stand for Jensen to be mad at Dakota over this. He’d been estranged from his family for too long and refused to be the cause of a rift between the Ackles siblings.

Jensen felt his anger recede at Jared’s insecure tone. It took a lot of courage for Jared to tell Jensen everything and he knew that Jared as was worried about his reaction to the story as he was about Jensen being angry at Dakota. He melted under Jared’s persistent attention, finally returning the other man’s kisses.

He leaned back and stroked a finger down Jared’s cheek. “Right. Nothing’s changed, Jared. _We_ haven’t changed,” he clarified, “I love you, Jared. You and those two boys down the hall. None of what happened in the past matters to me except to make me want to give you the best future I can.”  Lips dancing again, they lay back down and Jensen enveloped Jared in his arms. They traded lazy, unhurried kisses until Jared pulled away with a hum.

“That’s enough of that, Deputy,” Jared nestled his head in the crook of Jensen’s neck and rubbed a soothing hand over Jensen’s chest, “You only had one of those emergency college condoms.”

Jensen groaned, “We gotta get to the drug store tomorrow.”

“Most definitely,” Jared smiled, dropping a kiss to the warm skin beneath his lips, “I want to do that a lot more.”

“I think that can be arranged,” Jensen hugged him closer. “I’m really sorry, Jay. I wish I had been there. Thank you for telling me. I promise, I’ll never let anything hurt you or the boys again.”

“I know, Jen, and what really matters is that you’re here now,” He untucked his head and winked at Jensen, “Papa Jensen.”

Maneuvering Jared back under his chin, Jensen smiled widely, “Yeah, not gonna get tired of hearing that. Was kinda hot when you screamed it; turned me on like no tomorrow.”

“I noticed,” Jared yawned around a smile, burrowing deeper into Jensen’s side. “It suits you. Good night, Jen. I love you.”

Jensen’s heart nearly burst from his chest. “I love you too, Jared. Get some sleep.”

Jensen was almost asleep when a thought occurred to him. He gently nudged Jared, receiving a sleepy hum in response. “Hey, Jay. Did you ever think that the twins might not be Timothy’s? That – that they might be…mine?” He couldn’t deny that the thought sent something warm and tingly coursing through his body. He wanted them to be his, more than he wanted anything before.

Jared raised his head and looked at Jensen with sleepy eyes. “Timothy had a bunch of tests done right after they were born. They’re his,” Jared looked as upset as Jensen felt. “I’m sorry, Jen. I wish they were yours. You don’t know how much I wish that.”

Jensen swallowed his disappointment and pulled Jared back into his arms, “Doesn’t matter, Jay. They’re mine now.” He kissed Jared’s temple and watched the snow fall outside the window until he drifted off to sleep.

 

* * *

 

Timothy sat in one of the back booths of Ferris’ Diner, scanning the menu for something to warm him. It had started snowing just as he arrived in town and he hadn’t packed for the cold. It was in the 80s when he boarded the plane in Atlanta and it hadn’t occurred to him that it was winter in most parts of the country.

“What can I get ya?” The petite brunette who seated him came up to the table with a pad in her hand.

“How about a cup of coffee and that fried chicken special I saw on the board?” he smiled at her with his most charming grin. 

“Can do,” she answered cheerily, “Be right back with that coffee.”

He set the menu in the rack with the condiments and watched the flakes fall outside through the festively painted front window. The bell over the door tinkled softly and he looked over to see a young deputy enter, taking a seat at the bar. His waitress kissed the new arrival quickly on cheek as she passed to bring Timothy his coffee.

“Give me just a minute, Milo, and I’ll be ready to go,” she called over her shoulder on the way to Timothy’s table. “Here you go. Your food’ll be up in a minute.”

Timothy nodded his thanks, eyes constantly roving back to the uniformed officer at the bar. He saw the pretty waitress go to the only other occupied table, a few away from his own. “You doing okay? Can I get you anything?”

“Nah, Sandy. I’m good, thanks!”

Timothy pulled his phone from the inner pocket of his suit coat and checked his messages. As before there weren’t any and he growled quietly, tucking the device away.

“Good night, Sam! I’ll see you tomorrow,” the brunette waitress, Sandy, called to someone through the pass-through window, waving as she left arm in arm with the deputy. Timothy relaxed in his booth as the bell tinkled their departure and he watched the retreating tan uniform. 

Swiping a thumb over the crystal of his watch, clearing a smudge, he looked up as the bell tinkled again. A tall man walked in, his clothes and demeanor definitely setting him apart from the townsfolk, and upon seeing Timothy headed to the back table. 

“Good evening, Mr. Olyphant,” the tall man extended his hand.

“Timothy, please,” Timothy grasped the proffered hand in a firm shake then motioned to the empty side of the table, “Have a seat, Mr. Pellegrino. I really appreciate you agreeing to meet with me.”

“Mark, I insist,” Pellegrino said as he peeled his coat from his lithe frame and tossed it on the bench before sitting down. “I’m spending the holidays in Aspen so it wasn’t much of a hardship, and your associate, Mr. Cohen, was very _persuasive_. He assured me that this meeting would be worth my while. Now, Timothy, what is it you wished to speak with me about?”

Timothy smirked knowingly at the other man, fully aware of Matt’s considerable skills when it came to persuasion. They paused when a middle aged woman came to the table to deliver Timothy’s chicken, telling Mark to let her know if he wanted anything when he declined a menu. Once she was back in the kitchen, Timothy picked up his silverware and gave Mark a serious look.

“It has recently come to my attention that you and I have a mutual acquaintance,” He cut into the golden fried chicken breast, moaning at the savory flavor when it hit his tongue. “One we both wish we’d never had the pleasure of meeting.” Pausing for effect, Timothy chewed another bite of chicken. “You remember your old friend, Jensen Ackles, right?”

At the mention of the man’s name, Mark growled, his fingers curling into fists on the white Formica tabletop. “ _That_ bastard!” he hissed.

“Yes,” Timothy nodded, taking a swallow of his cooling coffee, “ _That_ bastard. The reason your husband left you and you have to have supervised visits with your children. From what I understand, he’s also the reason you have to register with the state when you move and the Board of Trustees for your family’s company decided your services were no longer needed.” He flicked a piece of boiled bacon from his green beans and stabbed a few of the vegetables on the tines of his fork. “So my question, Mark, is…how would you like a little payback?” He popped the speared beans in his mouth with a smirk.

“How do you know all that?” Mark crossed his arms, face distrusting and wary.

“As you have already learned from Mr. Cohen, I only employ the best and Mr. Pileggi is the best private investigator in the country,” Timothy scooped up a forkful of potatoes. “So, I ask again…how would you like a little payback to the man who stole your life?”

“What do you think?” Mark sneered, “Because of him, everybody thinks I’m the devil incarnate and the company that’s been in my family for generations is being run by my worthless ex-husband. I’m alone and wearing last season’s suit so I am most definitely interested in a little payback. My question to you in return is…what do you get out of it?”

Timothy set his fork against the side of his plate and picked up his napkin. Wiping his mouth, he draped the cloth back across his lap. “Jensen took something that belongs to me. Something I intend to get back. I think we could help each other. You get to destroy Ackles like he destroyed you and I get my Jared back.”

“What exactly did you have in mind?” Mark sat back, motioning to the woman filling salt and pepper shakers at the bar for a cup of coffee.

“Well…”

“Excuse me.” Both men looked up at the dark haired stranger now standing at the end of their table. 

“Can we help you?” Timothy frowned. It was the boy that had been sitting a few booths away. The kid had an excited gleam to his eye and was looking at them with interest.

“I think _I_ can help _you_ ,” Ed smiled.

 

 


	13. Chapter 13

Jensen walked into the bedroom, nudging the door shut with his elbow, and smiled at the image Jared made on the bed, glorious tanned skin bare to the coolness of the room, legs tangled in the sheets, hair splayed across the pillow and features relaxed in sleep. He quietly padded to the nightstand and set the platter he was carrying down, gently scooting a picture of the twins to the back edge of the surface to make room. Pulling his cell phone from his pocket, he laid it next to the clock, thumbing the alarm off as his hand passed over it. Sliding onto the bed, he tugged the comforter over their bodies when he noticed the gooseflesh adorning Jared’s skin. 

In the weak morning light he could just make out the scars on Jared’s back and he ghosted his fingers over the shiny skin, wanting nothing more than to take them away or take them on himself. He ran his hand down over Jared’s side, warming the cool skin with the contact, and splayed his fingers across his ribs, sighing when the he felt muscle under his touch instead of bone. Supporting his head in his other hand, he leant forward and pressed a soft kiss to the strong shoulder of the sleeping man. 

Jared hummed contently, riding the blissful peacefulness of a slow waking, and Jensen nosed through the silky locks behind his ear, dropping another tender kiss to the skin there. Chuckling softly, he shifted away, making room, when Jared started to roll on his back. He smoothed his hand down the younger man’s chest, settling it low on Jared’s stomach, and smiled as hazel eyes slowly blinked open to greet him.

“Morning,” Jared murmured, smiling. He stretched his long body, moaning at the pull of muscle and pop of bone. 

“Morning,” Jensen grinned in return, lazily dropping a kiss to Jared’s neck. He rubbed the tip of his nose in a nonsensical pattern over the bed-warmed skin.

“Time ‘sit?”

“Almost six-thirty.”

“Crap,” Jared groaned, “I gotta get ready for work.” Rubbing a hand over his face, his eyebrows shot up and he sat bolt upright. “Teddy!” he fumbled for the phone, “I need to call Amber and tell her I won’t be in today.” He closed his eyes and sighed, “She’s gonna kill me.” He flomped back on the mattress, cradling the phone receiver to his chest with one hand and slapping his forehead with the other.

Jensen reached over and plucked the handset from Jared’s grasp, tossing it on the bed.

“What are you doing, Deputy?”

“Relax,” Jensen stroked a soothing hand down Jared’s chest. “I checked on Teddy,” and, God, did it feel good to use that name, “a minute ago and he’s sleeping. He’s still a little warm, but nothing like he was yesterday. I’ve already called and got the day off so go to work. I got it covered.”

Jared sat up on his elbows, hand unconsciously pulling the sheet back up his chest when it slipped down. “You called out of work?”

“Well, yeah,” Jensen’s brows scrunched together in confusion. 

“Wh-why would you do that?” Jared was staring hard, his expression unreadable, and Jensen squirmed uncomfortably under the odd gaze.

“Teddy can’t go to school sick, so somebody needed to stay home. I know the studio’s been crazy with people trying to get Christmas portraits done so it was just easier for me to call out.”

“I can’t let you do that. I’ll stay with…” Jared trailed off, pawing at the thick blanket trying to find where Jensen had tossed the phone.

“You didn’t _let_ me do anything.” He loosely circled his hands around Jared’s wrists, stilling his questing hands, “Besides, Tommy Lee was grateful for a reason to get out of shopping with his wife. So see, I got the day off and the Sheriff owes me one. It’s all good. I promise.” He pushed back on Jared’s shoulder until the man lay down again.

“You’re really going to take the day off work and sit around here nursing a sick kid? One that isn’t even yours?”  The words were more disbelieving than harsh, but they stung Jensen nevertheless.

“I told you the twins were mine now,” he said defensively, “And, yeah, I am. I’m new to this whole kid thing, but isn’t this just a part of being a parent – rearranging your day, your life, for the sake of your children, giving them priority over everything else? I love those boys and that won’t stop just because one, or both, of them is sick.”

Jared’s eyes had gone wide, his face shocked. “But, your job is important and…”

“Not as important as you and the twins,” Jensen interrupted, not understanding why Jared was having such a hard time with this, “Jared, I’m not the first person to have a family at home and everybody at the station understands that sometimes you need to put them first. If they can, why can’t you?”

_“Jared, you need to get up now!” There was a hard kick to the mattress, shifting it up off the boxspring only to fall back down with a hard bounce._

_Jared groaned at the jostling, his whole body ached and he was freezing. His eyelids scratched roughly over his hot eyes and he blinked awake to see Timothy, bedecked in khakis and a polo shirt, standing next to the bed. “Don’t feel good,” he rasped, a wet cough erupting at the end of the sentence._

_“That’s not my problem,” Timothy sneered. “The boys are crying and I’m supposed to tee off in an hour.” He grabbed the baby monitor and turned the volume up, having put it on the lowest setting while getting dressed when the continued sobs didn’t stop._

_Jared’s heart thudded at the chorus of sadness coming from the small speaker, his sons’ cries cutting him to the core like they always did. He rose up on his elbow, closing his eyes when a wave of dizziness washed over him. “They okay? What’s wrong?” He tried to clear his throat, make his voice stronger, and winced at the flash of pain._

_“What am I, the Baby Whisperer? I don’t deal with screaming infants. That’s your department. ” He moved to the dresser and picked up his watch. “You brought this on yourself, you know,” He scolded, sliding the gold Rolex over his hand and affixing the clasp.” I told you not to take the kids to that Mommy and Me class, but you wouldn’t listen. All those snot-nosed germ factories running around, touching everything, spreading bacteria and viruses everywhere.” His lip curled in disgust._

_“The twins like it,” Jared coughed again, whimpering when the action made his chest ache and the pain in his throat worsen._

_”Yeah, well now you have to pay the price. I have to go, so you need to get your lazy, fat ass up. I’m playing golf with that gallery owner from Jacksonville. He’s interested in selling some of your stuff and actually likes the shit you’ve been taking lately. This could be our chance to get rid of those monstrosities and maybe even make a little money. I swear, Jared, if you don’t get your act together and start producing some quality prints, you might as well hang up your camera. Your work was passable before, but this new stuff? Fuck, I’d try to sell it on a street corner if I wasn’t worried we’d be made fun of by the guy schlepping velvet Elvis throws.”_

_Jared hung his throbbing head. He knew his new work was different – solemn and darker – but it was a reflection of how he felt. He tried to explain to Timothy that photography was his form of expression and his subjects changed with his mood, but the man couldn’t understand._

_The cries reached a new pitch, the red arch on the monitor expanding to fill the whole display, and Timothy covered his ears. “Jesus, Jared, are you going to get up and do something about that or do I need to drag you out of bed by your hair?”_

_“Sorry,” Jared mumbled, trying not to aggravate his sore throat. He carefully swung his legs to the floor and sat up, muscles protesting and head pounding. “I’ve got them.”_

_“I’m going to have lunch with this guy at the country club then we’re supposed to meet Matt at Donlan’s for dinner to discuss the contracts so don’t wait up.” Timothy grabbed his suit bag from the closet with what Jared assumed was clothes to change into after golf. Donlan & Greenbaum’s was one of Atlanta’s most exclusive steakhouses and he couldn’t see them allowing their patrons to dine in Dockers and a polo. Not that Jared would know, having never actually been there._

_“ ‘kay.”With supreme effort, Jared pushed to his feet, placing a steadying hand on the nightstand when he felt himself list._

_“Oh, and Jared?”_

_Jared opened his eyes, unsure when he’d closed them. “Yes?”_

_“Make sure to strip the bed and remake it before I get home. You can sleep in the guest room tonight. I don’t want to catch whatever the hell you’ve got. You look like shit.” With that, Timothy left, his garment bag swaying behind him._

“Hey,” Jensen’s fingers were warm on his cheek, gently angling Jared’s face to meet his gaze. “You with me?”

“You sure?” Jared shot him a skeptical look.

“Positive. It’s what you do for the people you love. You take care of them. ”

Jensen said the words like they were the most natural thing in the world, like it was just a given. One plus one equals two, the sun rises in the east and sets in the west, and you take care of the ones you love.  Jared dropped his gaze to where his fingers were running along the edge of the comforter. “Timothy never…He didn’t,” taking a calming breath, he looked in Jensen’s open eyes, “The twins were my responsibility.” He shrugged, eyes drifting away from Jensen’s and focusing on the ceiling fan.

Jensen leaned further over Jared, moving into his line of sight. “I think we’ve established that I’m not Timothy.”

“Understatement,” Jared snorted, “You…you’re amazing,” he muttered in an awed voice, shaking his head. “I don’t know how long Teddy would have sat there yesterday if you hadn’t gone and got him. I like my job, but I hate that it’s so far away and I always miss the kids’ school stuff. They’re at aftercare every day and I have so little time with them,” he shot Jensen a self-conscious smile. “Sorry, I sound like a whiner. It’s just been an adjustment from being home with them all the time to working again. I just wish…I don’t even know.”

Jensen suppressed a smirk at the smooth change in topic. Jared was a master at it, able to redirect a conversation with an easy grace that left the person he was talking to completely unaware it had even happened. Jensen figured it was a skill Jared had learned to hide questions about his abuse. Letting it slide, he traced his fingers down Jared’s cheek. “Jared, it’s okay. I was here. It’s hard after having them so much, I’m sure, but it’ll be okay. I promise,” Jensen wrapped his arms around Jared’s shoulders and hugged him. He had the beginnings of an idea, but needed to talk to a few people first. 

“This what you really want? Me, the twins, the…domesticity?” He waved his hand around the room.

“Absolutely,” Jensen answered without hesitation. Shifting, he rose up to get a better look at his lover. “You’re right, Jared, last night was fantastic and I want so many more just like it, but I also want this. Waking up with you here beside me, falling asleep with you in my arms, little league games and the Tooth Fairy and Santa Claus. I want runny noses and broken bones and broken hearts. I want you and Teddy and Benji, for as long as y’all will have me. I meant it last night when I said I wanted to give you the best future I can.”

Jensen could see the telling glisten of tears in the corners of Jared’s eyes as the younger man nodded. “What do we tell the boys? About us, I mean. We should probably try to ease them into it. They’ve gone through so many changes in the last few months. What do I… _we_ do when they start asking questions about Timothy?” Panic was adding a frantic edge to Jared’s words, his fingers twisting into the blankets.

“Jared, it’s all right,” Jensen soothed, tugging the fabric from Jared’s wringing hands and smoothing out the wrinkles. “I think the kids are okay with you and me. We’ve been dating for two months and nothing has come up. Plus, Papa Jensen, remember?” He tapped his chest with pride. “As for Timothy questions, be honest and answer them the best you can. That’s all we can do. If there are any problems, we’ll handle them…together.”

“Okay,” Jared nodded, taking a composing breath. “I guess I should go down and get some breakfast before I get dressed.”

“Nope,” Jensen grinned again, “Breakfast came up to you.” He reached behind him and carefully pulled the tray onto the bed, settling it between them. “Nothing heavy, just light fruit and a glass of juice.” He’d cut up some melon and pineapple, mixing in the grapes he found in the crisper, and paired it with yogurt topped with fresh blueberries and strawberries and a large glass of orange juice. 

“You remembered,” Jared breathed, looking over the colorful bounty on the tray. 

“Of course, I did,” Jensen acted affronted and stabbed a piece of pineapple from his improvised fruit salad. He held it at Jared’s lips and waited for the man to open them.

“Where’s yours?” Jared asked, biting into the juicy piece. He knew that Jensen wasn’t a fruit person. His breakfasts usually consisted of something a little meatier and a lot starchier.

Jensen stared transfixed for a moment as the chunk of pineapple bulged Jared’s cheek obscenely. “I’ll, uh,” he shook his head to clear it, “I’ll eat with the kids when they wake up. I was thinking pancakes and sausage, maybe even do my famous snowman shapes.” He winked, shifting through the bowl until he uncovered a particularly succulent looking piece of cantaloupe. Spearing it, he moved the fork in a zig-zag pattern toward Jared.

Watching the flying fruit, Jared quirked an eyebrow. “You know, I’m fully capable of feeding myself. I’m a grown man, after all. I can even tie my own shoes and everything,” he quipped, even as he dutifully opened his mouth for the bite.

“I am _well_ aware you’re a grown man,” Jensen smirked. “Doesn’t mean I can’t baby you a little. Anyway, eating is way sexier like this. Think about _Nine and A Half Weeks_ and tell me that wasn’t hot.” He set the fork down and dipped the spoon in the yogurt, mixing the berries into the thick, creamy substance.

“I think this has more to do with you making me eat than any food kink you’ve developed.”

“Maybe,” Jensen hummed noncommittally and hovered a spoonful of yogurt close to Jared’s mouth. “Still doesn’t mean I didn’t want to do something nice for you. Two birds, one stone. Now, have some yogurt, it’s good for you. Pro-biotics or something.“

“Bossy Deputy,” Jared complained, playfully, wrapping his lips around the spoon and sucking the yogurt off.

Heat flashed through Jensen’s body at the comment, his dick twitching, and he shifted slightly on the mattress. Clearing his throat, he dug the spoon in the yogurt and scooped up another bite.  

Swallowing, Jared placed his hand on Jensen’s wrist, lowering the spoon. “You really did all this for me? Just because you wanted to pamper me?”

“Well, yeah,” Jensen replied, eyes dropping in embarrassment, “that’s okay, right?”

“Wow,” Jared murmured in awe and Jensen took advantage of his stun-parted lips to slide the spoon inside. Blinking, Jared bit into the ripe berries, tongue peeking out to try and lick away a smear of yogurt on his lip. Jensen dived in and licked the sticky-sweet smudge away, delving his tongue inside to get a better taste.

Jared returned the kiss hungrily, swallowing carefully. “God, I love you.” His hands cupped Jensen’s face and he pushed into his form, jostling the tray and spilling the juice. “Move this!”

Jensen tried to move the tray without breaking the kiss, but eventually conceded defeat and they separated for just moments while he placed it on the nightstand. Turning back, he was enveloped in another searing kiss as Jared pushed him back into the mattress and blanketed his body, legs bracketing his waist.

Jensen’s hand smoothed down the planes of his back, over the rounded firmness of his ass, until his pads teased the slightly swollen entrance. Rubbing his finger over the furled muscles, he groaned when it relaxed and contracted against his touch.

“Jen, Jen,” Jared panted, hips rocking back into the not-enough pressure, seeking more. “Can’t,” he moaned loudly, pressing his face to Jensen’s neck and biting down to keep from crying out.

“Aaah,” Jensen gasped, “Can.” He delved the tip of his index finger inside, bucking up when Jared greedily accepted it. He leaned forward and took the coppery nipple hovering above his face into his mouth, sucking and licking until the nub hardened.

Jared’s back arched and he hissed, “D-d-drug sssssstore.”

Mouthing his way up to Jared’s neck, he licked over his pulse point to feel the younger man squirm. “Don’t need a,” he sucked hard on the pulsating flesh, “condom to make you come.” He pulled his finger back, flailing his arm around on the nightstand for the lube they’d used last night as he continued to lavish attention to Jared’s sensitive throat. Up-ending the fruit salad and knocking over the yogurt, he nearly crowed when his questing hand encircled the bottle.  

Touching a slickened finger to Jared’s waiting entrance, he took the man’s mouth again as he thrust it into the gripping heat of Jared’s body. Above him, Jared writhed like a live current was moving through him, body jerking and convulsing when Jensen scraped his nail over his prostate. 

“Daddy?” A sleepy voice was barely audible over their heaving breaths.

“Papa Jensen?” was the timid echo.

“Oh God,” Jensen broke the kiss. He and Jared pivoted their heads in unison to see Teddy and Benji framed in the doorway, Deputy Bear dangling from Benji’s grasp and Teddy’s well-loved bear clenched in his fist, staring at the two men with wide eyed expressions. Gently removing the finger he had knuckle deep in Jared, Jensen was pretty fucking grateful he’d pulled the covers over them earlier.

“Hey, guys,” Jared panted, rolling off of Jensen and tugging the sheet tighter around their bodies.

“Daddy, what were you doing to Papa Jensen?” Teddy eyed them both suspiciously.

“You were wrestling,” Benji accused, “You get mad at us when we wrestle on the bed.”

“I know, right,” Jensen said, emphatically, “I kept telling him we weren’t allowed to do that on the bed, but would your Daddy listen….no-o-o.”

Jared whipped his head around and glared at the older man, narrowing his eyes when Jensen gave him a look of feigned innocence. Schooling his features into a more apologetic expression, he turned back to his sons and he dipped his head. “You’re right. I’m sorry.”

 “It’s all right, Daddy. We all forget sometimes,” Teddy consoled. His brows drew together in confusion as his gaze danced from his father to Jensen. “Did you and Papa Jensen have a sleepover?”

“Uh, yeah,” Jared stammered, brain trying to push past the last vestiges of his arousal to think of a suitable explanation. He should have thought to talk to the boys about Jensen maybe staying the night.

“Yeah,” Jensen mimicked, smiling fondly. “I was so worried about you last night that I wanted to stay and make sure you were okay and since there aren’t any other beds and the couch is too small, your Daddy was nice enough to share with me.”

“Speaking of which,” Jared motioned the two closer, “how are you feeling this morning?” He scooted back on the bed, adjusting the blanket to gather over his crotch, and patted the empty spot in front of him. The twins happily took the invitation and scrambled to the bed Teddy climbing into the space by Jared while Benji crawled up from the end to sit between the two men. Jensen followed Jared’s example and bunched the comforter over his flagging arousal, angling his hips away from the small boy for good measure. He rubbed along Benji’s back and peered over Jared to hear Teddy’s response.

“Achy,” Teddy leaned on Jared, head pillowed on his stomach.

“I know, bud,” Jared cooed, palming his son’s forehead, “It got you good, huh?”

Teddy nodded solemnly, sick-clouded eyes blinking, lazily.

Jensen looked over at Benji and noticed his brow creased in thought, his gaze intensely focused on Teddy lying on Jared. “What’s with the thinking face?” He rubbed his thumb over the little boy’s forehead to smooth out the lines there.

Pursing his lips, Benji poked an exposed section of Jared’s stomach. “When is it going to get bigger?”

Jared’s abs contracted at the sensation. “When’s what going to get bigger? My stomach?” He exchanged a glance with Jensen who simply shrugged. He didn’t realize the twins were aware of Jensen’s obsession with him gaining weight.

“Yeah,” Benji answered, still studying Jared’s abdomen. “For the baby. Your tummy has to get bigger or it won’t fit.”

Jared and Jensen both sat up in surprise, Jared’s hand cupping Teddy’s head to keep from uprooting him. “Baby?” The said in unison, staring at each other dumbstruck before turning their shocked gazes to the blonde boy.

Jensen recovered first. “Benji, what makes you think that your Daddy is going to have a baby?”

Benji traded a confused look with Teddy. “You were wrestling.”

“I don’t understand,” Jared looked from one son to the other, hoping for a little elaboration.

“That’s where babies come from,” Teddy said nonplussed, adjusting his head to a more comfortable position.

“Where on Earth did you hear that?” Jared felt Jensen’s hand on his arm, realizing that his breathing had sped up.

“Rosie said,” Benji began, head dipping and voice sounding as if he was now questioning the reliability of Rosie, “She said she saw her Mommy and Daddy wrestling one night and now she’s gonna have a little sister.” 

Teddy’s head snapped up, his eyes wide. “We’re not gonna have a little sister, right? Girls are yucky, Daddy.” He turned pleading eyes to Jensen, holding in a cough. “Please, Papa Jensen, not a sister.”

“Whoa there, sport. Wait a minute,” Jensen chuckled. “There’s no little sister,” seeing Benji’s eyes light up with excitement, he quickly added, “and no little brother, either. You don’t get a baby by wrestling. Your friend is just a little confused.” He looked over at Jared, hoping he wasn’t screwing this up. The expression on his lover’s face told him that Jared was just as lost on how to handle it as he was, the smirk dancing across his lips telegraphing his joy that Jensen fielded the situation.

“Oh, okay,” Teddy mumbled, setting his head back on Jared’s stomach.

 Benji bit his lip as he thought Jensen’s words over. His head tilted as a new question came to mind and Jensen knew this was about to get dicier. “Then where do babies come from?”

“Um, the stork brings them?” Jensen groaned inwardly. It probably wasn’t the best answer, but it was the first thing that came to his mind.

“Jensen,” Jared chided and Jensen shrugged, mouthing _What? They’re six!_ in defense.

Teddy lifted his head and Jensen cringed at the questions he could see swirling in the child’s eyes. “The stork brings them? Then why does your tummy get…” He was cut off by a series of hacking coughs that wracked his small frame.

Even as his chest ached in sympathy, Jensen was relieved for the end of the Twinish Inquisition. He rubbed a hand over the boy’s head when the coughs subsided and Teddy dropped down to Jared’s chest panting. 

“Definitely no school for you today,” Jared smoothed a hand over the ill boy’s cheek and Jensen immediately took back anything bad he’d ever thought about Jared’s ability to change the subject. “Papa Jensen has offered to stay home with you. Would you like that?”

“Yeah. What do you say, Teddy Bear, want to stay home with me today? Veg out on the couch and watch movies?” Jensen kissed the top of Teddy’s head, slightly holding his breath waiting for an answer.

Teddy gazed at him with trusting, dull eyes and nodded. Benji huffed, crossing his arms and affecting a pout that could rival some of Jared’s all-time bests. “I want to stay home with Papa Jensen, too.”

“No,” Jared answered on reflex just as Jensen said, “Sure.”

They blinked at each other for a moment before Jensen chuckled softly. “Come on, Daddy. It’s the last day before Christmas break and we both know that the only thing Gen has planned today is a party. Plus, if these two are anything like Austin’s boys, you’ll probably get a call mid-morning that Benji’s now sick too. Please, Daddy!” Jensen batted his long lashes, topping off the most syrupy sweet look that Jared had ever seen him make. 

A nudge to Benji’s side and the boy was copying the look perfectly. “Please, Daddy!” he repeated.

Jared’s breath caught in his throat at the identical looks. Shaking his head slightly, he sighed. “All right,” he conceded, rubbing a hand up Teddy’s back, “just remember that Teddy needs to rest today so no running around acting crazy.”

“Yes!” Benji pumped his fist in the air and a small smile curled his twin’s lips.

“You need some more medicine,” Jared said, noting the fevered flush growing on Teddy’s cheeks. “Why don’t you two go downstairs and claim your spots on the couch and Papa Jensen and I will be down in a minute?”

Benji nodded enthusiastically and bounded off the bed. He came around to where Teddy was still laying against their father and held his hand out. Hands firmly clasped, he gently pulled the sick boy from the room, promising him full control of the remote, and closed the door behind them.

Jensen blew out a relieved breath and dropped back on the mattress, forearm coming up to cover his eyes. “Oh God. That was mortifying.”

“Them walking in on us or the part about where babies come from?” Jared chuckled.

“Both. I had flashbacks to walking in on my folks when I was a kid.” He shuddered at the thought. Sliding his arm up to rest on his forehead, he looked at Jared. “You don’t think we scarred them for life, do you?”

Jared stretched out beside him, head propped on his hand, and looked down at his lover. “No, Jensen. I don’t think we scarred them for life. I’m fairly certain they had no idea what we were doing. Though I think a call to Rosie’s parents is in order,” he murmured.

“Still, that could quite possibly be the single most embarrassing moment of my life, including the time my mom caught us fooling around in the shower.”

“That’s kids,” Jared wrinkled his nose, “Every day is a new opportunity for them to keep you humble.” Patting Jensen consolingly on the chest, he kissed him. “Welcome to parenthood, Papa Jensen.”

 

 


	14. Chapter 14

Jensen walked in the front door, the warm air making his cold face and fingers burn and tingle. He stripped his jacket off and hung it on the hook by the door, his hat joining it on the peg to the right. His next stop was the gun vault in the top of the hall closet where he kept his sidearm when off-duty, a newly installed upgrade to the house when Jensen began spending more nights in Jared’s bed than in his own. It was fingerprint coded to keep curious little hands out of trouble, a feature that both Jensen and Jared had insisted upon. Securing his gun, he shucked his work shoes and shut the closet door.

He stretched his aching back, twisting one way then the other to loosen the tense muscles. Jensen had spent the last week getting reacquainted with his in-desperate-need-of-replacement mattress – a fact he hadn’t realized until he started sleeping on Jared’s new pillowtop – out of respect for Jared’s parents, visiting from Savannah. Jared had been ecstatic at the news that his parents were flying out for the holiday, joy dimming only slightly that his siblings wouldn’t be able to join them. Aubrey was using the break between semesters to finish her thesis and Gavin was on call at the hospital, both sending their love and regrets coupled with the hope they could all get together for Easter. Jensen loved Robert and Frances Padalecki, but his arms missed the loving warmth of Jared’s body and his back missed the conforming foam of Jared’s bed. 

Scrubbing a hand over his weary face, he sighed and followed the voices floating out of the living room to find Robert and Frances laughing with his parents and Austin.

“Hey y’all,” he greeted, poking his head around the corner. “Where’s everyone else?”

“The boys are upstairs, probably destroying the twins’ room,” Austin smiled, “’Kota’s not here yet and I think Jared’s in the kitchen.”

“Great,” he replied, tiredly, “I’ll go say hello and then get changed so we can head to the restaurant. Give me about fifteen minutes to get dressed.”

“Take your time, honey,” Karen smiled sympathetically, “I brought your clothes over. I think Jared put them in his room.”

Jensen nodded his thanks and headed for the kitchen, eyes narrowing in suspicion as the smell of butter,  garlic and lemon grew heavier in the air with each step closer. Pushing the swinging door open, he leaned against the door jamb and frowned. “I thought we were going over to Plymouth for dinner.”

Jared startled, not aware Jensen had come in, and the pan he was holding clattered to the stove noisily. Water sloshed over the side and the burner hissed. “God, Deputy, you nearly gave me a heart attack!” Jared’s hand fluttered up to his chest, heaving with his panted breaths.

“Dinner?” Jensen prompted, gaze pointedly trained on the various pots and skillets on the cooktop, steam and savory scents wafting up from the stainless steel depths.

“Um,” Jared looked down guiltily, “The boys were hungry and I called the station and Danneel said you went out to the highway to help the State Patrol with an accident. I didn’t know when you’d be back so I thought I’d just whip up something real quick in case you were going to be real late and the shrimp…”

Jensen held his hand up to stop his boyfriend’s rambling and crossed the room to see what was giving off the delicious smells. “Shrimp scampi,” he ducked down to open the oven door, “parmesan tilapia and,” he lifted off a towel spread over a bread basket, “cheddar rolls are your idea of ‘real quick’?”

“I was going to cook the shrimp and fish tomorrow anyway, so it was already thawed. It isn’t a big deal, Deputy. Really.” Jared face had an expression on it that Jensen couldn’t read.

“It isn’t a big deal if you’re the kitchen staff at the Red Lobster, Jared,” Jensen sighed, exasperated. 

“Please don’t be mad,” Jared pleaded, that look still on his face – the bastard child of apologetic and wary, “It really didn’t take much time.”

Jensen closed his eyes and blew out a slow breath. He knew this was going to happen from time to time – he and Jared not agreeing on something and Jared fearing Jensen’s reaction – but it still sucked. Drawing the taller man into his arms, he hugged him tight. “Jared, I’m not mad. I just wanted you to have a night off. All you’ve done this week is work and cook. You’ve barely had time to spend with your folks. I thought it would be nice to go out and have someone else sweat over the stove for a change while you relaxed.” He kissed Jared, nuzzling his cheek when they separated. 

“Um, yeah, about that…”

Jensen pulled back to see Jared biting his lip, straight, white teeth digging into the sensitive flesh. “Yes,” he encouraged.

“JG called and asked if I’d be willing to trade shifts, I’d take his tonight and he’d cover mine on Christmas Eve.” He pulled the towel from Jensen’s hands and folded it. Eyes trained on the burgundy terrycloth, he shrugged nervously. 

“Jared,” Jensen sighed. It was Jensen’s idea for Jared to start working at FireWater. Steve had been in desperate need of a bartender after Jerry quit without giving any notice, leaving JG and Steve to pull double shifts and go without days off to take up the slack. Jared’s experience in college and his easy-going personality made him the perfect choice. The hours allowed him to be home when the kids got out of school and gave him the freedom to volunteer and be more involved in the classroom. Jensen gladly stepped up into the role of secondary caregiver, making sure the kids got their baths and were tucked snuggly into their beds on the nights Jared worked. Jared’s kiss as he slid into bed woke him each night when he got home and for Jensen there was nothing better.

“It was important to him or I wouldn’t have agreed. His sister’s volleyball team is playing for the regional finals tonight and he promised to be there, and he already missed the district competition when Jerry quit,” Jared rambled, twisting the towel between his hands.

“Jared,” Jensen repeated, lightly putting a finger to the younger man’s lips to stop the flood of words, “it’s your choice. You know I’ll stay and get the boys squared away. Can I ask you a question, though?” He gently pulled the tortured towel from Jared’s nervous hands and set it on the counter.

Jared’s eyes were cautious as he lifted his gaze, “Of course.”

“Why are you avoiding your parents? You were so excited that they were coming and now that they’re here, you’ve barely spent any time with them.”

“I’ve spent time with them!” 

“No, you haven’t,” Jensen argued gently. “You’ve successfully kept yourself occupied the entire time they’ve been here. I thought we were past the keeping-things-secret portion of our relationship. Please, Jared, just talk to me.”

Jared was spared having to answer by the timer on the oven and Jensen stepped back, sighing at the inconvenient interruption. 

“I guess we can call the kids down, tell them to wash their hands.” Jared set the dishes of fish on the waiting trivets lining the counter.

“Jared,” Jensen laid a hand on Jared’s shoulder, unwilling to let the conversation drop.

Jared sighed, shoulders slumping as he stripped off one oven mitt then the other and set them down next to the hot pans. “I’m glad they’re here,” Jared spoke quietly, back to Jensen and eyes locked on the broiled fillets in front of him, “and that they are getting to know the twins.”

Jensen remained quiet for a minute, waiting to see if Jared would continue, and stared at the tense back of his lover. When it didn’t seem like Jared would go on, he cleared his throat. “But…”

“But that’s just the problem. They shouldn’t be just now getting to know their grandchildren. The boys used to ask all the time about their grandparents. Why we didn’t see them, why they couldn’t come and visit. How do you explain to a four-year-old that they can’t see the only family they have because their father would beat me senseless and take them away from me?”

“Jared,” he reached out and laid his hand gently on Jared’s arm, “you did the best you could to protect everyone involved. Nobody but you faults you for that.”

“I was stupid and scared, and because of it I robbed my parents and children of six years. They’re gonna want to talk about it, know exactly what happened and why it meant they couldn’t be a part of my life. How am I supposed to tell them the things I let him do to me? That I was too weak to stand up to him?” Jared’s voice was edged in a controlled panic, his breathing coming faster.

“First off,” Jensen stepped up behind him and carefully cupped the round of Jared’s shoulders, turning him, “you didn’t _let_ that sadistic bastard do anything to you.” Jared cast his eyes downward, denial clear, and Jensen dipped his head down to catch the hazel orbs. “Secondly, you are not weak.” Jared’s eyes widened in protest and Jensen shook his head, “You are the strongest person I know. You endured everything that asshole did to you to keep your children safe and then you got them away. Yes, you were scared, but you made smart plans and you got away. A weak person would have laid down in the ditch with that scum but you picked yourself up and walked out of it.”

Jared’s eyes were watery, self-loathing and fear making his face twitch. “What if they hate me?”

Jensen cupped his cheek and Jared leaned into the affection, eyes closing and salt water spilling. “Impossible,” Jensen pressed a chaste kiss to Jared’s lips, rubbing their noses together, “You’re too lovable for your own good. Like a puppy – and who can ever hate a puppy?”

The side of Jared’s mouth lifted in the mockery of a smile.

“I promise, Jared, everything will be all right. You and the boys are safe here and you are rebuilding your relationship with your parents. And you’ve got me, as long as you’ll have me.  I’m not going anywhere. I can’t imagine my life with you guys anymore and, honestly, I don’t want to.” Jared looked at him with hopeful eyes and Jensen jostled his shoulder playfully. “Now, come on. Less talking, more eating. Nothing’s worse than cold fish.”

 

* * *

 

Jensen gently closed the door to the twins’ room, smiling at the peaceful faces nestled in soft pillows. The words of _The Lorax_ drifted through his head and he descended the stairs. It and _Yertle the Turtle_ were his favorites and he loved reading them on the nights he tucked the boys in – recently adding _How the Grinch Stole Christmas_ in deference of the season.

He was exhausted. The crash had been a multi-car pile-up and the coordination alone had been tiring then he’d caved and let the kids stay up to watch _The Wizard of Oz_ with their grandparents – Teddy stating in the reasonable way he must have inherited from Timothy that it was a good way to spend family time together. After the movie, stories and nighttime rituals, green eyes didn’t droop shut until close to ten-thirty and Jensen cringed at having to explain to Jared why they were up so late while simultaneously denying he was  wrapped around their small fingers. 

He leaned drowsily against the archway to the living room and stared blankly at the television for a minute as the jingle for the eleven o’clock news came on. The first story was about the car crash and Jensen breathed a sigh of relief when he heard the reporter confirm that those treated at the local hospital were believed to make a full recovery. The youngest passenger had been a ten year-old girl and the paramedics on scene had been worried about internal injuries. Jensen had helped load the girl into the back of the ambulance and watched as the mother tearfully hoisted herself into the compartment beside her daughter, reaching for the small hand and giving words of comfort while the medical personnel connected wires and tubes. He stood there for a minute after the blinking emergency lights faded in the distance wondering what he would do if something ever happened to Teddy or Benji, understanding in that moment that his life had somehow changed forever without his even realizing it.

Jensen jerked when a warm hand cupped his face, pulling him from his thoughts. He looked down into kind hazel eyes and smiled at the depth of emotion he could see there.

“You look tired, sweetie,” Frances cooed motherly, thumb sweeping over the smudge of black underlining his eye, “You should go to bed.”

“Yeah,” he sniffed, blinking his eyes a few times to clear the weary haze clouding them. “I was just about to head out. Wanted to say good-night to y’all first.”

“Jensen,” she sighed affectionately, “go upstairs and get in bed. I can tell you haven’t slept well since our arrival and it’s going to stop right now.” At his raised eyebrows, she smiled, “You and Jared are very sweet to try and spare our feelings, but it’s really not necessary. Robert and I are completely aware that you boys share a bed and there’s no shame in it. I’ve been meaning to talk to Jared about it, but getting him to stop long enough to talk is like nailing down water.”

Jensen ducked his head sheepishly. “He really was sorry he had to work tonight. I know he really wanted to spend the evening with you.”

Frances laughed, head tilted back, and tenderly patted Jensen cheek. “You really are a terrible liar to those you care about. I know my son, Jensen. Jared’s avoiding me because he doesn’t want to talk about what happened. That’s something else that’s gone too far and I plan to fix tonight.” She let her hand slide from Jensen’s face, a fond look on her own, “You know when Jared was little his biggest fear was disappointing us and, in a lot of ways, he’s still that same little boy. I think it’s time that I remind him that we’ve always been proud of him and nothing he can say will ever change that.”

Jensen’s heart swelled and he stepped forward, enveloping Frances in a warm hug. “If you weren’t married and I wasn’t madly in love with your son, I’d be down on one knee right now.”

Frances moved back and got a mischievous glint in her eye. “How about we compromise? Instead of marrying me, one day you get down on one knee and marry into my family? Give me some more beautiful green-eyed grandchildren?” She added with an odd, knowing look on her face.

Jensen’s brow furrowed at her expression and he smiled back, “Yes, ma’am. I intend to.”

“Good. Now go on and get some rest. I’m just going to stay up and wait for Jared to get home.” She shooed him toward the stairs with her hands.

Jensen stopped on the bottom stair and turned back to her. “You really knew all along?” 

“Of course,” she answered. “Mothers know everything. Even some things their children don’t.” Her smile grew into a large grin, “Plus it helped that Benji complained when I made pancakes that I didn’t do it right since they weren’t snowman shapes like Papa Jensen. Which reminds me. You’re on breakfast duty tomorrow. I apparently can’t go home unless I try Papa Jensen’s magic snowman pancakes.”

Jensen ducked his head and shook it, “Yes, ma’am.”

“Good night, sweetheart. Sleep well.”

“Good night, Momma Padalecki.”

 

* * *

 

Jared slid his key in the lock already kicking off the back of his shoes and held the door firmly against the jamb to minimize the creak of the old hinges. He’d been meaning to oil them, but the only time he thought of it was in the middle of the night when he was coming in from work. Shuffling forward on his half-on, half-off shoes, he quietly shut the door and thumbed the lock into place.  With two dull thuds his shoes found a spot on the floor of the closet and he pushed the door shut as a yawn caught him by surprise. Thinking of his lonely bed, cold and uninviting without Jensen in it to welcome him, he dragged himself to the bottom of the stairs.

“Jared?”

Turning toward the living room, shocked he hadn’t noticed the light on, he walked over to find his mother curled up in the large chair by the fireplace, an ever present book draped open over her lap. “Hey, momma. Couldn’t sleep?”

“I decided to wait up for you, honey. I thought we could talk since we haven’t had much opportunity when your two little Energizer bunnies are awake.” She closed the book and set it on the side table.

“I was, uh,” Jared looked up in the direction of his bed then back at his mother’s determined face. He knew there was no getting out of this conversation. “Sure, momma. We can talk for a while.” He made way to the sofa and dropped heavily on the padded seat.

Frances sat expectantly in her chair, a technique she’d learned to employ on her children long ago that usually produced the best results. She would sit quietly until the silence became too great then the child in question would start to talk just to fill the pregnant air. 

Jared’s lungs felt heavy as each breath marked the passing of time in the silent room. He hated the stillness, knew his mother played this game with them and that his fidgety, hyperactive nature made him the most susceptible to it of her three offspring. He bit his lip in a vain attempt to keep back the flood of words that pressed relentlessly against his closed lips, but, eventually, as it always did, the tide grew too insistent.

“I’m sorry, momma. I know I disappointed you and papa. I was selfish and you, papa and the twins paid the price for it.” Jared hung his head, shaking it in shame.

“Jared, you are a lot of things, but selfish has never been one of them.” Frances admonished sitting forward in her chair. “I know you. I _raised_ you. You would walk on broken glass for the ones you love. I’m sure that whatever has happened it wasn’t because you were selfish. You want to tell me what happened after you went home that first Christmas?”

Jared took a deep breath, twisting his fingers together between his knees. He’d been thinking all night about what Jensen had said about needing to talk to his parents and wondering what he would tell them. He hadn’t settled on any one thing so he decided to go with the truth and see where it went from there. 

“Timothy wasn’t a nice man,” he began, speaking directly to his wringing hands. “I always knew he was hard, but it wasn’t until after that Christmas that I found out he was cruel too. He hated y’all and he had never even met you. Then stupid moving company called the house to confirm the truck time and Timothy got the message. He was livid, blamed you for me wanting to leave. He forbade me to see any of you, told me he would take the boys from me and have me declared unfit. I had no doubt he could do it. Money and power talk, and Timothy has plenty of both. He acted like a jealous lover, checking my phone and e-mail constantly to see if I was talking to you and he kept tabs on the odometer when he was out of town to make sure I didn’t drive over to see you.”

Jared felt the burn of tears as they fell silent and unbidden over his cheeks. That was something Timothy had taught him early on, how to cry noiselessly. Timothy had made it clear he didn’t want to be bothered by Jared’s blubbering and that no one had pity for someone who brought pain on himself. 

Seeing Jared struggling to keep his emotions in check, Frances rose and went to the couch, wrapping a comforting arm around Jared’s broad shoulders. “Oh, honey,” she blinked back her own tears at seeing her son in so much pain, blaming himself. She’d always known that Timothy was the root of Jared’s distance over the years, but she’d never guessed the lengths the man had gone to create that space. In college, psychology was her most hated subject, but she’d paid enough attention to recognize Timothy’s actions and motives. He was jealous, jealous of Jared’s connection with his family and friends and sought ways to isolate him from everyone. The possessive bastard wanted to own Jared solely, leave him no one to go to for support, save Timothy.

“I wanted to see you, momma, I did,” Jared shook as he fought to control the sob desperately trying to break free, “but he’d taken everything from me. I couldn’t let him take Teddy and Benji, too.”

“I know, sweetheart, I know,” she cooed, rubbing her hand consolingly down his arm. She didn’t blame him for his choice. Forced to choose between her parents and her children, she was confident that she, too, would pick her children every time. Her heart broke at seeing Jared like this. Growing up, he was her happy child, a smile on his lips and a joke on his tongue, and her blood boiled at the thought of Timothy taking the light away. If she could get a hold of that man right now, she would strangle him with her bare hands.

“When I tried to call, he always found out. He would…p-punish me for disobeying,” Jared confessed in a hushed whisper.

Frances’ body went rigid before she could force herself to relax. Surely, Jared didn’t mean what she thought he did.

“I planned to come to the hospital after Papa’s heart attack, but Timothy heard me on the phone.” Jared shook his head, lifting his face to the ceiling and taking a shaky, calming breath. “By the time I was able to drive again, Papa had been released and Timothy was watching me closer than ever. “ He faced his mother, sorrow and regret weighing his features down. “I’m so sorry, Momma.”

Frances forcefully swallowed down everything that threatened to bubble to the surface: her anger, her outrage, her sadness. Jared would only misconstrue those as being aimed at him instead of their intended target. “You have absolutely nothing to be sorry for, baby. That monster is the one that should be sorry,” she pulled Jared into her arms, rocking him gently like she did when he was little and had a nightmare. Her mind churned over and over. _He hurt my boy, he hurt my Jared._ They sat quietly for a while, each lost in their own thoughts as Jared reigned in his emotions and Frances grappled with her own. A thought occurred to her suddenly and her words raced bile up her throat. “Jared, did he…did he ever hurt the boys?”

Jared pulled away and stared at her with red-rimmed eyes, “No, Momma. I would never let him lay a hand on my sons. I’d die first.”  

A shiver ran down her spine at Jared’s statement, knowing if her son had stayed it probably would have come to that eventually. “I know you wouldn’t, angel. I’m sorry I asked.”

“I really wish you’d been in their lives, our lives,” Jared sighed, rubbing his sore, tired eyes. “You’ve been here three days and they love you so much already.”

“We love them, too,” she admitted quietly. She was equal parts annoyed and relieved at the change in subject. As much as she wanted Jared to enumerate the many sins that bastard had committed against him so she could condemn him for each and every one, she also wanted to never hear them, never make Jared say them out loud, if only to protect them both from the remembered atrocities. Looping her arms around his shoulders, nostalgically recalling when they used to go all the way around with room to spare, she pulled him closer and set his head against her chest. “Why don’t you tell me about all the things I’ve missed?”

 

* * *

 

Jensen rolled over at the sound of the bedroom door creaking open. In the dim light he could see Jared moving around the room, peeling off clothes to get ready for bed while trying not to disturb him.

“Hey,” Jensen croaked, throat still clogged from sleep. The clock on the nightstand glowed green, the digital display reading 3:48 a.m.

“Hey,” Jared answered softly. “I should have known you’d wake up.”

“S’okay,” Jensen yawned, “You’re home late.”

“Not technically,” Jared sat on the edge of the bed, hand rubbing up Jensen’s bicep, “just late to bed. I got home about an hour ago, but Momma cornered me downstairs. We’ve been up talking.”

Jensen rose up on his elbows, “Good talk or bad talk?” He didn’t feel right letting on that he and Frances had talked earlier.

“Good talk,” Jared nodded, “I told her about Timothy. Not…everything. Some things a mother doesn’t need to know, but I sketched it out enough that I think she got the picture.”

“How’d she take it?” Jensen rubbed at his eyes.

“Really good. I’m pretty sure she’d guessed most of it over the years.”

“So, everything is good? All that worry for nothing?”

“Yes, Jensen,” Jared intoned, “You were right. All that worrying was for nothing.”

“Hey, now,” Jensen cupped his shoulder, slightly offended by Jared’s mocking tone, “don’t be like that.”

“I’m not,” Jared assured him, a tender smile dancing over his lips, “but you were right.” He leaned forward, pressing a chaste kiss to his love’s mouth, and Jensen could smell the faint traces of salt water on his skin. Meaning to pull back, Jared changed tactics and moved closer when Jensen parted his lips, deepening the kiss.

“Damn straight I was right,” Jensen teased, feeling the atmosphere of the room change. He made a trail of soft, open-mouthed kisses and playful nibbles down the column of Jared’s neck, biting hard into the juncture of neck and shoulder. He grinned smugly at Jared’s gasp, inhaling deeply to catch the essence of Jared’s scent and received a lungful of air tainted with the smells of stale smoke and liquor.

Pushing Jared back and wrinkling his nose, Jensen frowned. “Dude, you smell like the bar. Go shower and come to bed. I haven’t slept good in a week.”

“Yes, sir,” Jared mock saluted and scurried toward the bathroom.

 

* * *

 

Frances stood at the kitchen counter snapping a bag of green beans for Christmas dinner. She and Karen had taken over the area, pushing a protesting Jared out when he insisted on helping. This was part of their gifts to their sons, Christmas to relax with the boys and just enjoy the holiday. Frances smiled as she pinched the ends of each legume and broke them into bite-sized pieces. Each Christmas she had prayed to have Jared and the twins back and for the first time in five years she’d gotten exactly what she wanted. The only thing that would have made it perfect was if Aubrey and Gavin could have joined them, but there was always Easter.

“Remember that Christmas we all got together in the Keys and Jared and Jensen decided to help with dinner?” She chuckled softly, mind on holidays past as her hands moved automatically to break the green pods.

“I remember us almost having to call the fire department over a forgotten pot of boiling potatoes,” Karen laughed, “Who knew that letting a pot boil down that much would burn out the bottom. Did we ever find out what they were doing that they were so preoccupied?”

Frances raised an eyebrow at her friend, a knowing smirk on her face. “Never ask a question, you aren’t sure you want the answer to.”

“You’re right” Karen conceded, winking, “It’s probably best we don’t know. Frankie, can you please hand me the gravy boat?” Karen was stirring gravy with the patience and knowledge honed over thousands of batches.

Wiping her hands on the apron tied around her waist, Frances picked up the delicate china boat, an Ackles hand-me-down heirloom with small pink roses hand-painted on the side, and carried it over to place it next to the stove. Movement along the opposite edge of the large island caught her attention and she gently bumped Karen’s shoulder and jutted her chin in that direction. Karen looked over her shoulder and an affectionate smile spread across her mouth. 

Small, bodiless right hands danced over the countertop, searching by feel for the two platters of cookies that sat waiting for dessert. They watched as fingers crawled over the rim of the porcelain plates, tentatively tracing the edges of the cookies. Their smiles broadened as the swinging doors to the hall and dining room quietly moved and Jared and Jensen burst into the room just as the twins snatched a treat, eliciting surprised squeals from both boys. Jared enveloped Teddy in his arms, lifting the small child from his feet, while Jensen snared Benji in a similar hold, two sets of short legs kicking in juvenile glee.

“Looks like we caught ourselves a couple of cookie monsters, Jay,” Jensen joked, blowing raspberries into the ticklish skin of Benji’s neck.

“What do you think we should do with them, Deputy,” Jared flipped Teddy over his shoulder, dangling him by his legs.

“Jared, don’t do that,” Karen admonished, “He’s turning as red as a beet.”

 “Well,” Jensen intoned with a thoughtful face, watching Jared tip Teddy up the correct way and settle the boy on his hip. “We could deny them presents.”

Noises of disagreement filled the air as the twin furiously shook their heads.

“Or,” Jared drew out the word, “we could feed them to the most ferocious beasts known to man – the hungry grandpas.”

Exchanging mischievous grins, the two men dashed off carrying the twins to find their fathers. Their mothers stood, backs to the counter, matching tender smiles spreading across their faces.

“It’s nice to see Jared so healthy and happy,” Frances sighed, watching the door swing back and forth in the wake of Jared and Jensen’s exit. “The last time I saw him, he was miserable and so thin.”

“He wasn’t much different when he arrived here. Timid and scared like a field mouse. It took a little time but we eventually got him smiling and putting on some weight.” Karen sighed, turning back around to stir some of the boiling pots on the stove,

 “Being here and with Jensen have been really good for him,” Frances returned to her beans, raking her fingers through the ones to be cooked and checking for missed ends. She always thought the boys were good together and was heartbroken over the loss of someone she considered a son when they separated. When Jared had called in October after six years of near silence, she’d been delighted to know he had left Timothy and equally ecstatic to hear he’d reconnected with Jensen. She’d known all along that Jared never loved Timothy, that his heart belonged to Jensen, and had stayed to provide his children with the best life, but she’d often wondered how much that security had cost him. Something had been terribly wrong for her son to cut them out of his life and in the dark of night when thoughts of  her second born danced through her head, she worried that she knew the reason. Now she knew and somehow the knowledge made her feel worse. It was one thing to suspect, it was entirely another to know.

“It’s been good for Jensen, too,” Karen thankfully interrupted her melancholy thoughts, “He’s been floundering the last few years, trying so hard to find his place. He’s taken to Jared and the twins so effortlessly. It was like he was born to be there, like the final piece of a puzzle snapping into place.”

“Like it was meant to be,” Frances added.

“I can’t get over how much Teddy looks like Jared,” Karen flicked her eyes to the small framed picture of Jared and Jensen with the boys that sat on the windowsill, “His eyes, his hair, even his personality. It’s like Jared gave birth to a miniature version of himself.”

“I was thinking the same thing about Benji and Jensen,” Frances cut her eyes to the side as she picked up the colander of freshly snapped beans, trying to gauge the other woman’s reaction.

Karen’s hand stilled, spoon half-submerged in bubbling water. She carefully retracted the utensil and set it on the spoon rest seated on the cooktop between the back two burners. She bent over to open the oven door and answered nonchalantly, “You’ve noticed too?”

“I’d be blind not to,” Frances replied just as casually, running the beans under the faucet to clean them.

“Do you think Jared knows and just hasn’t told Jensen?” Karen’s voice was soft like she didn’t like admitting that possibility out loud. She loved Jared. He was part of her family, her son, just as much as Jensen and Austin were, and it hurt to think he would intentionally keep something so pivotal from Jensen, from them.

“No, I don’t,” Frances answered kindly, understanding how much Karen’s question had cost her. “Jared could never be that cruel. I think Jared truly believes, for whatever reason, that Timothy is the father of his sons.”

Pushing the turkey back into the warm oven, Karen shut the door. She looked at the door to the hall where the sound of the twins’ laughter was echoing from the living room. “Think they’ll ever figure it out?”

“I don’t know, but, honestly, would it matter? Would you love Jared and the boys any more, if the twins were really Jensen’s or any less if they weren’t?” Frances dumped the green beans in the pressure cooker and sealed the lid, confident in the other woman’ answer.

Nodding, Karen placed a hand on Frances’ back as she passed behind her.

 

* * *

 

Jared leaned against the door jamb to the living room, watching his mother and sons, surrounded in a pile of new toys, carefully unpackaging each from the cardboard and plastic that encased it. On the couch, Jensen sat with his parents laughing at Frances’ increased frustration at the level of security modern toys were fastened with. Jared’s heart warmed a little more with each loving smile his mother graced the twins with, the epitome of matriarchal love. He flinched slightly when a solid hand landed firmly on his shoulder, clapping him affectionately.

Turning his head back, Jared smiled at his father. “How are you feeling?”

“Excellent,” Robert answered, moving to stand beside his son, “How could I not be when my Frances looks like that.” He gestured with his chin to where Frances chuckled as Teddy danced around the Woody doll from _Toy Story_ she’d given him for Christmas, reciting the characters trademark lines with his best cowboy impersonation.

Jared’s face fell and he ducked his head in shame. “I’m sorry, Papa. It’s all my fault. I…”

Robert raised his hand. “I think we all know exactly who is to blame for our family’s unhappiness.”

Jared’s eyes swam with the beginnings of tears, his father’s natural speech pattern comforting him as much as his words. Robert Padalecki was a first generation American. Jared’s grandparents migrated from Poland to the U.S. in the heyday of the Eisenhower administration, seeking new opportunities and leaving behind the war-torn memories of their childhood. They fully embraced their new home, working diligently to learn the culture and language, but also held onto the traditions and tongue of their mother country. The formality of Robert’s speaking was the only indication that he straddled the two worlds, a hallmark of someone who’d learned English as a second language, but it had never occurred to him to mind.  He’d met Frances Hoesterey in the fifth grade, who told him he sounded like a prince and blacked Bobby McMillan’s eye a year later when the boy mocked Robert about it. Robert knew in that moment he was going to marry Frances someday and try to give her the fairytale she deserved.

“It wasn’t all him,” Jared murmured quietly.

Robert sighed. Jared was always the kid to lay the majority of the fault on himself, finding reasons why he should receive the lion’s share of the guilt even when it was unwarranted. He considered his son, searching his sad face and clearly seeing the failure Jared believed he was written there. Even as a child, Jared down-played and dismissed his own inner strength, finding weakness and frailty every time he fell and ignoring the determination and will needed to stand back up. Robert held no delusions that Timothy was a loving partner and knew his son had his reasons for staying and had suffered because of them. 

“Jared, I did not understand the basis of your relationship with Timothy, only that it troubled me deeply. All I ever wanted from this life was for my children to know the love and happiness I found with your mother and I do not believe that is what you had with Timothy.”

“No, Papa, it wasn’t.” Jared turned back to the room as Jensen’s laugh rang out to see the twins pressing sloppy kisses over Frances’ face. Jensen feeling Jared’s attention looked over and they exchanged an amused glance as the boys’ enthusiasm pushed their grandmother back to the floor into a sea of wrapping paper scraps.

“But you have found it now, yes?” Robert asked in that way that said he already knew the answer.

Taking in the picture of hearth and home before him, his family together, he nodded his head.

Robert followed his son’s affectionate gaze, “We love Jensen, always have. He is good for you and your sons and he loves all three of you.” Robert looked slyly at his son from the corner of his eye. “A father should be so devoted.”

Jared blinked and his brow furrowed. “Papa?”

Robert shrugged, and enigmatic smirk pulling at the edges of his mouth. “Forgive me. I only mean that Jensen loves and is loyal to you and my grandchildren like their father should be.” He clapped Jared on the shoulder, “Now if you’ll excuse me I need to rescue my damsel in distress.”

Jared bit his lip as his father rushed to his mother’s side, scooping Benji up and tickling along his ribs as Frances, no longer double-teamed, regained the upper hand and dug her fingers teasingly in the sensitive skin under Teddy’s arms. Childish laughter melded with grown-up amusement, filling the living room. Meeting Jensen’s eyes, Jared mouth spread in a dimple-inducing grin and he joined his family.

 

* * *

 

Robert climbed into bed next to his wife, who sat propped against the headboard with the most recent Janet Evanovich novel between her hands. He sighed as his muscles relaxed after a long day of playing with his grandsons. Nestling back into the mattress, he rolled on his side to face Frances.

“Did you have a good holiday, my love?” He asked, rubbing the wash-softened flannel of her nightgown between his forefinger and thumb.

Smiling the smile that had enraptured him so long ago, the same one Jared and Teddy had inherited, Francis placed a bookmark between the splayed pages of her novel and closed the paperback. “I did,” she yawned, placing the book on the nightstand before sliding down between the sheets. “We have our family back.”

“Seeing Jared and the children with Jensen makes me happy. I’m glad he found his love again. Some in this world are not so lucky.”

“Yes,” she traced a soothing finger over his eyebrows, watching as his blue eyes grew heavy. “They are perfect together.”

“Mm-hmmm,” Robert agreed sleepily.

Frances gazed fondly at her husband, watching his face slacken in sleep. They’d played with Teddy and Benji all morning, along with Alex and Karen, only taking breaks for dinner and the occasional cookie. Finally, as the day waned, night darkening the windows, everyone sat down to watch _A Christmas Story_ , the two small boys dozing off before Ralphie ever got his beloved Red Ryder BB Gun.

The twins had chatted non-stop, wanting to know their grandparents as much as Robert and Frances wanted to know them. She had fielded questions interspersed between imaginative play on every subject imaginable: how Jared was as a little boy, where she and Robert lived, how they met, what were Gavin and Aubrey like. The questions were endless, but they didn’t bother her. She happily answered each one, glad that they were so interested. What disturbed her was the off-hand remarks the twins made: how Jensen played with them and took care of them, how much happier they were, how Daddy didn’t cry anymore. Jared had been vague about his years with Timothy, but the words out of the mouths of babes confirmed some of her worst suspicions. 

Smoothing her hand over Robert’s head, fingers threading through the chestnut length now shot through with gray, Frances felt for the first time in years that all was right in her world. Her boys were now safe and had the love of someone who would make sure they stayed that way. She leaned forward and pressed a soft kiss to her husband’s forehead. “Sweet dreams, my prince.”

 

* * *

 

 

Joseph wiped over the smooth surface of the bar, snagging two empty beer bottles left by Mr. Shaw – liquid fortification to deal with his visiting in-laws he’d joked. The bar was nearly empty, the holiday keeping the casual drinkers at home leaving only the hardened barflies to bask in the neon glow of the Christmas spirits. The door opened bringing with it a gush of frigid air from outside and Joseph smiled politely at Tom Hardy as he settled on one of the barstools.

“Merry Christmas, Tom,” Joseph greeted, placing a napkin on the newly cleaned surface in front of the large man. 

“Happy Christmas, JG. Can I get a Bass?” Tom stripped off his jacket and draped it over the stool beside him.

“Coming up,” Joseph slung the rag over his shoulder and grabbed a pilsner glass from the rack behind the counter. “Sam’s closed?”

“Yeah,” Tom sighed, “til Boxing Day.  Thanks,” he nodded at the frothy ale Joseph set before him. Taking a sip, he licked the foam from his lip. “Steve gonna make you stay til two tonight?”

“Nah, probably start throwing everyone out around eleven so I’ll be home before,” Joseph trailed off, watching Chad stand from his table near the back and help Penn with his jacket. His mouth twitched when Penn leaned over and pressed his appreciation against Chad’s lips.

Frowning, Tom followed his gaze. “He’s not worth your jealousy, mate,” he murmured sagely, running his finger through the condensation on the side of his glass. 

“Hmmm,” Joseph mumbled. Pulling himself from his thoughts, he returned his attention to the man at the counter. “What was that?” 

“I said that Penn is a foul git that doesn’t deserve your jealousy.” Tom tore the edges of the napkin under his drink.

“Oh,” Joseph blushed, blood staining his cheeks a rosy pink. He stuttered a good-bye when Penn and Chad called out as they left. “It’s not like that,” Joseph defended, “Penn is a great guy. We’ve known each other since we were in Pampers, fighting over the same shovel in the sandbox. He’s the type that would give you the shirt off his back and then offer his pants. He deserves someone who’ll make him happy.”

“You just wish that someone was you,” Tom added.

Joseph shifted the exposed beer bottle necks jutting up through the shaved ice in the cooler behind the bar, wriggling them deeper in the cold depths. “Am I that obvious?” He looked up at Tom, face pinched in a nervous, uncertain expression.

“Nah,” Tom rubbed his knuckles over the polished wood, “I wasn’t always a short-order cook. I’ve done some time of my own on the back side of a bar. Made me good at listening… and watching.”

Easily taking the opportunity to change the subject off of himself, Joseph leaned forward on the bar. “So you bartendeded before?”

“Back in London,” Tom nodded, taking another sip of his drink and missing the way Joseph tracked his tongue swiping over his upper lip. 

“Bet you sure drew the crowds,” Joseph murmured mesmerized, eyes still glued to the curve of the cupid’s bow over a plush bottom lip.

Smirking, Tom leaned forward on the bar, “I did all right.”

Realizing he was staring, Joseph blinked and cleared his throat. “So, uh,” he coughed self-consciously, “what made you move to Wowakan? It’s not exactly high on the most popular places to live in America.” What the hell was the matter with him? He was acting like his kid sister whenever Jonathan Masters walked into the room.

It was Tom’s turn to laugh self-deprecatingly, ducking his head. “Bad break-up. He decided after two years that he preferred the more conventional aspect of sex. It wouldn’t have been so bad if he hadn’t preferred it in our bed.” Tom shrugged, residual bitterness evident in the tense line of his shoulders. “So I decided I needed a change. I pinned a map of the States to the wall and, as clichéd as it sounds, threw a dart. It stuck in Wowakan, Colorado and I moved the next day.”

“Wow,” Joseph was stunned. He’d never had the guts to leave Colorado let alone think of moving to an entirely different country. “That’s…” He thought for a minute and shrugged. “His loss, our gain,” Joseph winked. Oh, God, he actually winked. “I guess we’re all just looking for what Jared and Jensen have.” _Stupid, stupid, stupid. Great, JG. Remind him his boyfriend cheated on him._

“Doesn’t keep us from looking, though,” Tom winked back, taking another drink of his almost forgotten ale. “Even the epic lovers were once strangers.” Swiveling the glass in the puddle of condensation on the bar, he glanced up at Joseph through lowered eyelashes. “Hey, Joseph?”

The air felt expectant and heavy and Joseph felt stupid under the weight. “Only my folks call me Joseph,” he blurted out without thinking.

“Do you mind it?” Tom asked, the corner of his mouth pulling up coyly.

“Not the way you say it.” Apparently his brain was still allowing his mouth to run the show without supervision.

Coy smile morphing into its sexy older brother, Tom’s voice took on a gravelly quality. “So, Joseph, what would you say…”

 “Excuse me. Do you think I could get some help?” A tall man with dark hair asked from a few seats over to Tom’s left.

Joseph startled, cursing lowly, and blushed at the newcomer. He’d been so involved with talking… _flirting_ with Tom that he hadn’t noticed the new patron come in. “I’m so sorry, sir. I completely missed you coming in.”

“Apparently,” the man said stiffly, eyeing Tom with disdain and brushing non-existent lint from his expensive looking sportscoat.

Tom looked down at himself, remembering that he’d come straight from the diner, hoping for a nightcap before going home. He’d been particularly clumsy in the kitchen tonight and his clothes bore the making of several different dishes, as well as a tear in the knee of his jeans from snagging it on one of the shelves in the supply closet.

“What can I get for ya’?” Joseph set down a napkin on the bar and tried to ignore the way the condescending glare the man sent Tom raised his hackles.

“You can get me Jared,” the man replied, pushing the napkin away, his chocolate brown eyes squinting to peer through the dim lighting of the bar. 

“Sorry, man, Jared’s off tonight. I’ll be happy to get you anything you want.” Joseph stood a little straighter, not liking the tone of the man’s voice.

“But Jared works on Mondays,” the man protested and Joseph noticed Tom’s eyes narrow.

“Usually, yes,” Joseph answered, trying to keep the conversation congenial, “but not tonight. I can tell him you stopped by.”

“No,” the man barked. “You can tell me where he lives.”

“I don’t think I can help you there, mister. Not my place to tell.” Joseph’s body was screaming at him that something was wrong. He knew that Jared had run from his old life and he had a feeling that this man was part of the reason why. His eyes flicked over to Tom relieved to see him still following the conversation closely.

The man’s demeanor shifted, softened. Apparently realizing that his brusque attitude wasn’t yielding the desired results, he changed tactics. “I’m a close friend of his, a really _close_ friend,” the man accentuated with a leer, “and I’ve come a long way to see him.” The man fixed Tom with a steely gaze, visually sizing him up.

“If you’re such a close friend of his then why didn’t Jared tell you where he lived?” Tom turned in his seat, subtly flexing his arms.

“We haven’t talked since he moved. I thought I would surprise him,” the man ran his hand through his neatly styled, short-cropped salt and pepper hair in the mockery of a sheepish gesture.  

“Must not be that close if y’all haven’t talked in over three months,” Joseph raised an eyebrow and crossed his arms over his chest.

Visibly gritting his teeth, the man ground out through his locked jaw, “Are you going to tell me where he is or not?”

Joseph opened his mouth to answer, but Tom beat him to it. “I’m thinking not,” Tom smiled tightly, “This is a tight-knit community, mister. We don’t around telling people’s business. If Jared wants to be found, he’ll tell you where he is. So, you can either come back on a night he works or you can try the Sheriff’s station down the street. His boyfriend is the Deputy Sheriff. If Jensen thinks you’re all right, he’ll get you in touch with Jared.”

The man’s face turned murderous at the mention of Jensen and Joseph had a moment to wonder about it before another question was directed at him. “When is Jared supposed to work again?”

“I’m not sure,” Joseph lied, “If you want to leave your name and number…”

“You’re lying,” the man’s face was red with anger. Before Joseph could react, the man had his hands fisted in the front of Joseph’s shirt, pulling him half-way across the bar. “When does Jared work again?” The man growled.

Joseph flinched, outmatched in size and strength by the stranger, and his fingers scrambled over the corded flesh of the man’s wrists, trying to loosen the grip. He noticed a shadow pass over them and flicked his eyes to the side to see Tom standing tall and intimidating next to the man. 

“I suggest you set him down nice and easy or the next thing you hear will be my fist hitting your face.”

Joseph’s eyes widened at the menacing snarl and the look of controlled rage coming from Tom. The cook had an impressive physique – hell, he’d been all but ogling it earlier – and Joseph had allowed himself to be lulled into the false security that Tom was a gentle giant like Jared – a misconception that was now cleared.

Stunned, the man released Joseph, the smaller man dropping to the floor when his unsteady legs refused to support him. From his vantage point on the floor, adrenaline working his lungs and heart into a racing rhythm, Joseph watched the man hold up his hands and back away. When the man was out of sight, he closed his eyes and tried to master his breathing. A warm hand on his shoulder forced his eyes open and he stared up into warm, concerned eyes.

“You all right, JG?” Tom rubbed his arm, smiling comfortingly.

Nodding his head, Joseph wrapped his fingers around Tom’s wrist. “Call Jensen,” he gasped.

 


	15. Intelude - Turning Saints Into the Sea

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Timothy understood that power and money made the world go around

Timothy David Olyphant was born in Atlanta, Georgia on an unseasonably cold day in May. He was his parents’ first and only child, a fact his mother had made abundantly clear to her husband on hearing she was pregnant. He’d better hope it was a son because she was only going to misshape her beauty queen body once in an attempt to give him an heir.  Two days after he was born, Timothy was laid in the arms of his mother for the ride home where he was promptly transferred to the arms of a nanny.

His father was a god in the banking world, so much so, that the titans of Wall Street paid homage to him, his business prowess and financial cunning earning him a lofty place on the Fortune 500 list. His mother was a goddess among the charitable women of Atlanta, able to intimidate event planners with her thunderous micromanaging anger and stroke away small portions of Timothy’s inheritance with a lightning fast pen.  The elite of the Georgia elite worshipped them, everyone seeking a touch of their divine grace.

Timothy grew, flourishing under the love and attention of governesses, over-indulgent women who turned blind eyes to his childish offenses in the hopes of compensating for the lack of affection he received from his parents. He was schooled by the finest tutors and the most prestigious institutions, learning only the things that interested him, confident that his surname was enough to keep his instructors from failing him in the subjects that didn’t.  Life lessons, those that follow a person into adulthood and shape the type of person they will become, he learned, like most children, at his parents’ knees, watching and emulating them in the hopes of one day becoming just like them. 

His compassion was molded watching his father ink away the livelihoods of ten thousand blue collar workers in exchange for a 1% increase in quarterly gains, smiling at his son later during dinner with a quip about bringing home the bacon as their cook placed a platter of prime rib on the table in front of him. Fairness came from his mother, listening to her offer a sought-after band twice the customary fee to cancel a commitment to play at a fundraising concert for inner-city programs in order to provide entertainment for an important private party she was throwing for the mayor’s wife’s birthday. His honor, as he peeked through the cracked study door, his father threatening to destroy the life of a woman if she ever again brought around the ‘bastard’ child, bundled in a blue fleece blanket, she clutched fearfully to her chest. His forgiveness, a week later from the darkened upstairs landing as his mother passionately kissed the new intern at his father’s office while his father watched darkly from the open front door, suitcase from his recent business trip on the floor next to him. 

His greatest lesson didn’t come from his parents’ knees but from their hands, visually aided by the purpling bruises that his mother’s make-up couldn’t hide and his father’s dress shirts couldn’t cover.  There wasn’t a fine line that separated love and hate. No. They were bedfellows, a pair, and you couldn’t have one without the other. To love someone, you also had to hate them to a certain extent, and the basis of any relationship was dependent on the ratio of the two. That lesson he learned well.

It wasn’t until Timothy was in high school that he realized the influence his surname truly held. More than bullying teachers into better than passing marks, it gave him notoriety without any effort on his part and a group of sycophantic allies, all eager to be cast in the glow of his popularity. Power and money were potent tools and with them you could rebuild the world to your liking. A new gym got him a spot on any sports team he wished and a new science laboratory earned him top marks. Half the student body wanted to fuck him and the other half wanted to fucking _be_ him. He was king and it was good to be king. 

Though the academics of those hallowed halls were of no use to Timothy, he did garner some valuable knowledge while there: the right way to touch a person to make them sigh in pleasure and the minimal force needed to make them cry out in pain.  He made his way through the cheerleaders – their pleated skirts fanning out over his lap as he guided them harshly up and down, one hand fisting long hair and the other gripping bruises into soft flesh. He’d slept his way through half of the varsity squad before he realized the messy blowjob from the quarterback did more for him than any of the rah-rahs could ever dream. It was heady having such an alpha male on his knees, the power of making him submit, and it got him off harder and faster. It was a drug and Timothy was an instant addict. He still fucked the pom-pom girls, he just fucked their jock boyfriends, too.

Four years and a diploma he didn’t deserve later, Timothy left secondary education and Atlanta ready to conquer the collegiate world and Savannah. He invaded the seaside town in a flurry of entitlement and old money, only to learn that the traditions Atlanta was built on were rebuffed by the eclectic people of his new city. Savannah may have been steeped in history, the bricks beneath his feet cobbled in centuries past and worn with the accumulated traffic of the intervening years, but the younger population was open-minded and liberal, thanks in large part to the art and design school nestled in its historic bosom.  His name was no longer worth its weight in gold, but, fortunately for Timothy, his money was still backed by it. 

He soon gathered a following, a group of near-men easily influenced by the sight and smell of green inked linen, and sought about making a place for himself, preferably a high one. Those that didn’t love him instantly were soon persuaded to that way of thinking, money and a thin veneer of charisma winning over the most ardent of dissenters.  All except one person.

Timothy met Jensen Ackles at an inter-fraternity basketball game during homecoming week, the honor of their rivaling houses the only thing resting on the outcome of the game. Timothy was there with Jake Abel, a freshman pledge eager to please his older fraternity brothers and willing to do anything to accomplish it. He was exactly Timothy’s type: young, strong, athletic and oh-so-pretty on his knees. They were sitting in the bleachers watching the game, cheering their players and taunting their opponents in equal measure. There wasn’t a referee, the game barely civilized with more fouls occurring than baskets. Jake was completely focused on the court and Timothy, who abhorred the sport, occupied his mind with making plans for what he wanted to do to Jake that night. 

Jake’s soft ‘wow’ brought his attention back to the game.  The afternoon sun beat down mercilessly on the players and many had resorted to stripping off their shirts in a vain attempt to keep cool. He followed his companion’s heated gaze only to realize that Jake wasn’t so much watching the game anymore as he was one particular player on the other team. Timothy had to admit the man was gorgeous; it would be a blatant lie to say he wasn’t – ash blonde hair, muscular physique, full lips that sent Timothy’s mind reeling at the possibilities. When the game ended, Timothy’s fraternity losing dismally to the other house for the fifth year in a row, he didn’t object when Jake insisted they go congratulate the winners. As he suspected, Jake made a beeline for the handsome man.

“Hey, great game, man. You were awesome,” Jake gushed as they approached the man near his team’s bench.

“Thanks,” the guy smiled, leaning down to gather his water bottle from under the bench.

“I’m Jake,” Jake thrust his hand out.

“Jensen,” the guy shook the proffered hand, smile widening.

Apparently remembering Timothy’s presence, Jake quickly dropped Jensen’s hand. “This is my…this is Timothy.”

“Timothy Olyphant,” Timothy shook hands with Jensen, raising an eyebrow at Jake’s stuttered introduction.

“Jensen Ackles.” In one glance Jensen assessed and dismissed him, turning to rifle through his open gym bag. Pulling a towel out, he turned back and gave Timothy a more careful once over, frowning. “Olyphant?”

Timothy smiled. This was more the reaction he was used to getting. “You may have heard of me. My dad just donated the money for the new commissary.”

“Oh,” Jensen muttered, less than impressed. “Well, I guess on behalf of the hungry student body, I thank your father for his ability to sign a check.” He ran a towel back and forth over his sweat drenched hair, biceps rippling with the movement and Timothy heard Jake swallow a quiet moan.

“Hey Jen,” a dark haired, broad shouldered man called, running up to the trio and draping his arm over Jensen’s shoulder.  “Bunch of us are chipping in for a keg. You in?”

“Yeah,” Jensen pulled his wallet from the side pocket of his bag and thumbed through the few bills inside.

“You know,” Timothy smiled, seeing his opportunity to get into Jensen’s good graces, “I could cover that for you.  A congratulations of sorts on winning the game.”

“Nah, that’s okay,” Jensen pulled a five dollar bill out and closed his billfold, “my dad has never paid for my beer so I wouldn’t feel right having yours do it either.”

Timothy’s smile fell and he felt the flush of anger flood his cheeks. Never in his life had any offer been denied. People usually fell over – either on their back or their knees – with gratitude when Timothy pulled out his wallet.

“Here you go, man,” Jensen handed the money to the confused newcomer, “let me know if you need more.”

“Will do,” the dark haired man saluted with the money, “Let me give this to Neal then I’ll be ready to go.”

“Thanks, Chris,” Jensen tucked his wallet away.  “Well, looks like my ride is about ready. It was nice to meet you, Jake. I really hope to see you soon.” He winked and lifted his bag to his shoulder, sliding his thumb under the strap. Nodding to Timothy, “Olyphant.”

“Ackles,” Timothy nodded back with a tight jaw and watched the man walk away. Taking a harsh breath, he forced a smile on his face and turned back to Jake at his side. Sliding an arm around the blonde’s waist, he leaned over and purred in the younger man’s ear. “Wanna get out of here?”

Jake’s eyes were still trained on Jensen’s ass as he crossed the court to meet up with his friends. Pulling them away seemed to take real effort, but Jake finally managed to force his attention on his date. “Oh, yeah. Um. Hey, I forgot. I have a huge test in Chemistry tomorrow and McMillan is already riding my ass about that exploding test tube.” His eyes flicked back to Jensen, laughing and joking with a group of men near the parking lot, before coming back to Timothy. “Raincheck?”

Timothy clenched his teeth, the muscle in his jaw ticking under the strain, and twisted his mouth into a tight smile. “Sure. Can’t have you failing out of school, now can we?”

Timothy tried several times over the next few weeks to cash in that raincheck. He’d set his eyes on Jake and was determined to get what he wanted out of the young man. Kid was on the gymnastics team and Timothy had never had a gymnast. His imaginings alone were enough to make his head spin – all that flexibility and strength under his hands and at his command. Each time, Jake had an excuse to beg off – practice, study groups, tests.  To the casual admirer it would appear that Jake was trying to juggle his commitment to the gymnastics team and maintain a decent GPA, but Timothy had seen him stumbling back to the frat house – drunk, debauched and smelling of sex and musk – too many times to believe that. Jake was seeing someone, someone who wasn’t Timothy. It was another disconcerting first for him – he’d never, not once, failed to get what he wanted. He became even more determined to get Jake in his bed.

It was two weeks later at a Halloween Party on campus that Timothy found out who that someone else was. He’d been trolling through the crowd, searching out Jake so he could show him the error of his ways, when he found the young blonde in an upstairs room.  Jake was beneath a man on the bed, their cop and robber costumes on the floor next to the nightstand, bent in half with his feet flat against the wall behind his head in an impressive display of limberness. It was straight out of one of Timothy’s fantasies except in those he was the one pounding into that lithe body, making Jake cry out so prettily. This was who Jake had chosen over him – Jensen Ackles. He’d lost to some hick kid from out west – he’d checked Jensen out after their first meeting – and that didn’t sit well with him. Green eyes, shining in the light from the hallway, glanced his way and a cocky smile spread across Jensen’s face.  He gave a particularly hard thrust and Jake screamed Jensen’s name, body convulsing as he erupted over his toned stomach. Timothy backed out of the room, closing the door and walking down the hallway. It was there that it all began. The first and greatest rivalry of Timothy’s life. The next week Jake was forced out of the fraternity, though none of the brothers were sure why, and the week after that he came under investigation for plagiarism, allegations he vehemently denied right up until the day he was expelled. 

Years passed and the animosity grew. They competed over anything and everything. Some of them Timothy won, most he didn’t. An imaginary Mason-Dixon Line separated the campus into two factions – those who adored Jensen and those that followed Timothy. As much as people were captivated by Timothy’s money, more were enthralled by Jensen’s charm.  Jensen was the golden boy – good grades, affable and well-liked based on his own merits. Timothy wondered briefly once, in a flash of uncharacteristic self-awareness, if Jensen didn’t have the right idea. Wasn’t it was better to be liked for the person you were rather than the balance of your checking account? Shouldn’t loyalty be earned rather than bought? When he asked his father about it, the answer came lightning fast in the way of a backhand to the face. Lying on the floor, licking blood from the split in his lip, Timothy was reminded that it was always better to be feared than loved. Love may make fools rush in where angels were wary to tread, but fear would make them shove their loved ones in first to test the ground.

Timothy’s hatred for Jensen and Jensen’s indifference to it wasn’t a secret, strangers to the two men seemed to know of the enmity, but never once did Timothy actually envy Jensen or anything he had. Jensen had and would always be just some poor fucker from a cow town in Colorado and Timothy contented himself with the thought that while Jensen may have had it all in college, Timothy had it all in life. That is until the night he saw his old arch-nemesis in The Pirate’s House with possibly the most enticing person Timothy had ever met. Jensen’s dinner companion was long and lean, muscles rippling under his shirt with each movement.  The conversation between the two seemed serious, each talking in turn while the other listened with rapt attention. The gorgeous man wiped his hands on his jeans self-consciously and laughed, Timothy feeling a smile pulling his lips at the sound. It was obvious to anyone who’d studied Jensen the way Timothy had over the years that he was completely taken with his date, eyes shining and face flushed with the rush of new love. The man with Jensen was vibrant, full of life and Timothy’s body thrummed with the need to tame the frenetic energy that seemed to vibrate from him. He wanted to bridle that spirit, break it to his will. He had to have the young man. Taking him from Jensen? Well, that would just be a bonus.  

His mouth twitched into a smug smirk as he navigated the tables separating him from the happy couple. “Ackles?” He called as he approached the table, cheering inwardly at Jensen’s muted groan.

Jensen set his fork down and wiped his mouth on his napkin, giving him a tight smile and reluctantly extending his hand. “Olyphant. Good to see you again.” 

“Likewise,” Timothy shook Jensen’s proffered hand, his eyes focusing on Jared, “Who’s your stunning dinner companion?”

He could almost hear Jensen’s teeth grind against each other and he fought to keep his expression neutral. Jensen had never reacted this way before, his face possessive. Was it possible that this man actually meant something to him? 

 “Timothy,” Jensen looked like he would rather swallow glass than make this introduction, “this is Jared Padalecki. He’s a student at SCAD.” Jensen’s hand covered Jared’s resting on the table and Timothy’s eyes narrowed at the radiant smile Jared beamed at the touch. Looked like Jensen wasn’t the only one that was taken. “Jared, this is Timothy Olyphant. We went to Mercer together.”

“Nice to meet you,” Jared set his fork down and held out his free hand to Timothy, his other remaining solidly in Jensen’s. 

“Pleasure’s all mine, I assure you,” Timothy answered, thickening his Georgia drawl, layering it in the honeyed sweet charm that most people found irresistible. He held onto Jared’s warm, smooth hand, relishing in the strength he could feel there. Jared tugged gently in a subtle hint for Timothy to release him and Timothy kept the younger man’s hand in his grasp a moment longer before letting go with a slight squeeze. He saw Jared flick an uncertain gaze at Jensen.

 “Olyphant,” Jensen cleared his throat and Timothy tore his gaze from Jared’s oddly colored eyes, “if you don’t mind, we’d like to finish our dinner. You and I can catch up another time, okay?”

“Of course. It was very nice to meet you, Jared,” he smiled his most charming smile at Jared then nodded to Jensen. “Ackles.” 

“Olyphant.”

He walked back to his table, the business associates he was entertaining shooting him curious glances. He smiled apologetically at them and picked up his menu, eyes constantly darting back to where the couple was now talking intimately. _Jared Padalecki_. 

Timothy looked down at the stack of papers nudging his arm, the men gathered at the table waiting with their hands folded on top of their menus. They’d been his father’s financial advisors and Timothy had inherited them along with the company when his parents were killed the previous year in a car crash. He accepted the pen his lawyer held out to him and thumbed through the stack to the page in the back requiring his signature. He didn’t need to read the paragraphs and clauses detailed in 12 point font, he knew what they said. He’d spent the last six months working on this takeover - biding his time, watching the quarterly earnings and projections, waiting for the right moment and when it presented itself he’d pounced with a single-minded determination. The current owner had rallied against him, a desperate attempt to keep him out, but had to eventually admit defeat. With a flourish of ink on paper, Timothy sealed the deal. He glanced back over to the private table near the back and smirked as he let the pages fall back in place. He always got what he wanted and this would be no different.

 

* * *

 

It only took a handful of phone calls for him to learn where Jared worked. He became a frequent patron of The Plank, mind churning and mouth-watering at the sight of Jared in his uniform. He attended every one of Jared’s art shows and purchased a few items that Jared donated to the local animal shelter for their charity auctions. Never intrusive, he insinuated himself in the peripheral of Jared’s life – much to Jensen’s chagrin – always visible on the outskirts, a constant shadow in the background. He tired quickly listening to their admirers mooning over their perfect love, girls becoming inebriated on their romance, swooning with each touch and kiss they witnessed. Timothy had to hold back his sneer every time he saw Jensen’s hands or lips on Jared.  He never fooled himself into believing that Jensen was ignorant of his presence in their lives, but knew that Jensen didn’t want to draw attention to him. Jensen had never been the confrontational type, letting his actions speak for themselves and he was happy to let their relationship do the talking now as well. Timothy was patient; though, waiting for the stalwart Jensen to falter in his guard so he could secret away his prize.  

When news of Jensen’s job offer in Chicago and Jared’s decision to stay reached his ears, Timothy knew his moment had arrived. Ever the opportunist, Timothy took advantage of Jared’s newfound vulnerability and Jensen’s absence to finally take what he wanted.  He approached him at the bar one night, Jared alone nursing his second beer and looking at the half-empty bottle like he wanted to drown in the depths. Timothy tried to cajole him out of his morose mood, but it was soon evident that Jared was in mourning over his lost love. He could see and feel his window closing, doubts creeping in that he might never get to have this exquisite creature the way he’d been dreaming of for so long.  He couldn’t let this chance pass him by – Jared was exposed, defenses down and susceptible – and after eighteen months of waiting he refused to miss his opening when there was no guarantee he’d get another. 

In the end it was almost too easy, a swift twist of the wrist when passing Jared a fresh beer, a little powder dissolving among the bubbles in the amber liquid. If college had taught him anything, it was the value of alcohol and pharmaceuticals.  Jared in bed was everything Timothy had thought he would be and so much more. He yielded so easily to Timothy’s dominance, begged, pleaded and whimpered so beautifully. Jared’s body was agile and moved with a natural grace that blew Timothy’s mind. Jared was strong, in mind and spirit, and Timothy had gotten off harder than ever before having all that power at his mercy, at bringing this giant of a man to submission. 

The next morning Jared woke in Timothy’s arms, eyes wide and bright with confusion that dimmed to shame when Timothy offered a simply believable explanation for Jared lapse in memory. He was disappointed when Jared unsteadily gathered his things, excuses about classes and commitments falling quietly from his lips interspersed with half-hearted apologies for leaving so abruptly. Timothy lay back unconcerned as the front door snicked shut, the smell of the previous night’s activities wafting up from the disheveled sheets. He cupped his burgeoning arousal, memories of Jared’s pliant and willing body making it blood-heavy with need, and began to formulate a plan. He’d gotten a sampling from the sheer smorgasbord that was Jared’s body and he knew that one bite would never be enough. He couldn’t let this be the one-time thing he’d planned on, he had to have more. He needed to come up with something that would make Jared his permanently.

Jared agreed to meet him a few times for lunch or coffee over the coming weeks, always maintaining a friendly distance. They exchanged casual touches, but the contact never progressed further than those small platonic gestures. Timothy could clearly read on Jared’s face and in his every move that Jared regretted their night together and didn’t intend for it to happen again. Refusing to be discouraged, Timothy used this time wisely to learn things about Jared that would help him to convince Jared otherwise. 

A month later, after a week of cancelled lunches due to illness, Timothy was surprised to open his door to find a pale and wane Jared, looking young and nervous.  Jared was pregnant, pregnant and petrified. Timothy had never once considered having children, the paternal desire non-existent in his mind, but he saw this for the gift that it was. Jared would be forever bound to him, their child creating an unbreakable link between the two men, his claim cemented in DNA and blood. 

Jared resisted when Timothy insisted that he move in so that Timothy could better care for the man, only agreeing once Timothy conceded to give Jared his own room. Timothy quickly became the envy of his friends and colleagues – Jared was an eye-catching piece of arm candy – but he knew that Jared’s friends and family were wary, concerned about Jared and the situation. Timothy felt their judgment in each look and heard it in every conversation, knowing that he was being constantly compared to Jensen, but they couldn’t deny him his place in Jared’s life, try as they might. 

Months passed and Timothy provided Jared with the best care that money could buy. He tempered his resentment over Jared’s continued refusals of his more amorous advances, consoling himself with the possibility that Jared was ashamed of his bloated and distorted body. If Timothy was honest with himself, the ever expanding bump had dampened some of his desire and it was more the mere fact that Jared wasn’t taking what was on offer that made him pursue it so much. 

Timothy began to ration Jared’s meals, masking his disgust at the overly prominent bulge by stating concern over Jared’s weight gain compared to others at similar stages in their pregnancy. Jared’s once enviable body had become contorted and misshapen. Gone was his lithe, slim form, replaced by this huge pot-belly, his Adonis supplanted by Buddha. His mother had taught him that beauty might be only skin deep, but since that was what the world judged on, it was all that mattered. He showed Jared pictures of his mother, some of the precious few she’d allowed while pregnant, taken at an Easter celebration only a month before Timothy was born. Her small bump made it seem more like she’d swallowed a soccer ball than was carrying a child. Jared flushed in embarrassment, hand sweeping over his growing waist, bigger now than the woman’s depicted in the picture. He remained quiet about the smaller portions even when his stomach voiced its complaint loudly. 

At twenty weeks, it was discovered that not only was Jared having a boy, he was having two. Jared timidly handed over the three-dimensional images – baby A proudly displaying his gender while the shyer baby B sucked his thumb. Timothy smirked at the pictures, looking past the miniature people displayed in the sepia tones and seeing his claim on Jared doubly forged. He allayed Jared’s worries and picked up the phone to order an additional crib for the nursery.

Faced with this new information, Timothy conceded to an increase in Jared’s daily caloric intake now that he was eating for three instead of two, but quickly cut it back again if Jared’s weekly weight gain exceeded what was expected. Jared was huge and Timothy played on the insecurities the size had created in the man. Timothy had seen other people struggling with post-baby weight, husbands accepting portly as an unfortunate after effect of pregnancy, and he was determined to have Jared back to his pre-pregnancy size once the children were born. Jared would thank him later.

It was in late September that things went horribly wrong. They were arguing again, the number and intensity of their disagreements increasing over the last few weeks and culminating in the most heated to date, when liquid started trickling down the inside of Jared’s thigh, staining the white carpet of the Nursery. Timothy stared dumbstruck as Jared doubled over, clutching his stomach and cried out in pain. Finally, he grabbed his phone in shaky hands and called an ambulance. 

The Labor and Delivery department was a flurry of activity when they arrived, nurses and Jared’s obstetrician voicing concerns about premature delivery and fetal lung development. According to the doctor, Jared’s water had broken and he was in premature labor, something they’d been worried about. The pregnancy hadn’t been easy on Jared, he’d almost lost the babies twice as his body rejected the foreign presence. The doctor talked calmly with them, advising them of the possibility that at thirty-five weeks, the twins’ lungs would not be developed fully, that they might have to be on a ventilator. Jared was wheeled into the delivery room, staring at Timothy with eyes wide in terror as fear for the twins’ well-being took hold. 

Hours of labor culminated when a strong cry rent the air, followed a short while later by another equally strong wail. Timothy had a moment of relief, until he saw Jared’s pale face and a nurse pushed him toward the door. He stood outside the door, staring at the No Admittance sign in numb disbelief. All the times before, Jared had never been in danger, only the twins, and Timothy always considered them a reasonable sacrifice as long as Jared was safe, was his. Now, Jared was the one sick or dying and Timothy felt the beginnings of real fear. Jared couldn’t leave him to take care of their sons. Timothy needed him.

Five hours later, he stood beside Jared’s bed in Recovery as Jared was introduced to his sons for the first time. Jared had started hemorrhaging once the second baby was born and it had taken two hours for them to get him stabilized.  Jared reached for them, the nurses, using pillows to bolster Jared’s weak body, placed one healthily pink baby boy in each arm. Jared blinked tears away as he gazed down at the sleeping cherubs. The baby on the left, the older of the two, wrinkled his face and blearily blinked up at his daddy. Timothy expected the gasp that left Jared, had exhaled a similar rush of air when the boys had first opened their eyes to him. The nurses had been astounded and awed at the bright, emerald green of the twins’ eyes, commenting that most babies’ weren’t usually so clear right after birth. He could see Jared’s mind turning, suspicions multiplying when the baby on the right opened equally vivid green eyes. Timothy knew because he had had those same suspicions when the squalling newborns were handed to him the first time.  He waited until the twins were swaddled snugly in their bassinets in the hospital Nursery – Jared naming the older twin Benjamin Alexander and the younger Theodore Joshua without consulting him – and Jared was asleep in his room to make his way to the nurse’s station.

“Excuse me,” he smiled at the middle-aged woman behind the counter, “how would I go about getting a paternity test?”

Two weeks later, Timothy sat at his desk reading over the print-out results.  He gathered several papers together and moved to the fireplace, tossing the topmost sheet in the dancing flames. The other two were locked in the wall safe, securely tucked away until they were needed.

 

* * *

 

Having been an only child, Timothy didn’t have much experience with kids so he really wasn’t prepared for the changes his life would undergo once the babies were home. They were loud, all times of the day and night, and escaping to his study did little to drown out the incessant crying. His normally spotless house had been invaded by an army of bottles and binkies and diapers. Most disturbing of all was the misconception that once Jared was no longer pregnant, he would be willing to trade their casual touches for something more sexual. Jared had walked out of the hospital fifteen pounds lighter than he’d been pre-pregnancy, the baby weight melting off of him, and Timothy couldn’t wait for Jared’s six week clearance so he could once again experience the masterpiece that was Jared’s body. The reality of the situation was that Jared spent most of his time caring for two colicky babies, so he had little energy left over for much more than sleeping. The squalling, selfish brats monopolized Jared’s time, leaving little to none left for Timothy. He resented the twins, hated their puking, shitting, crying little guts.

Timothy could see Jared pulling away, creating distance in their fledgling relationship. He knew that Jared was concerned that Timothy wasn’t more active in his children’s care and that those green eyes left Jared with unanswered questions. It left Timothy cold and it seeped into every aspect of their home life.  The firm control he had on his temper since he’d started this thing with Jared started to slip, affording Jared glimpses of his anger.

When Christmas rolled around and Jared said he wanted to go to visit his parents in Key West during the holiday, Timothy was grateful that a big merger prevented him from going. He thought the time away would be good for Jared and he could definitely do with a few nights of peace and quiet and possibly some of the human touch he’d been denied for so long. What Jared didn’t know, couldn’t hurt anyone.

He answered the phone the night before Jared and the kids were due home, expecting his daily call from Jared, to be greeted by a friendly voice confirming an appointment for movers the day after tomorrow. The phone suffered the brunt of his anger that night and Jared bore it the next. After the kids were thankfully down for the night, the echo of their cries still ringing in his ears, he dragged Jared into the study by his hair. Throwing the young man on the floor he retrieved the papers locked in the safe and tossed them down in front of Jared. Proof in black and white that the twins were Timothy’s and he reveled in the crestfallen look in Jared’s eyes. Jared had held out hope that the twins weren’t Timothy’s, was going to leave him believing it. That night he reminded Jared and himself who had the power in their household. After he’d slaked his anger, he dragged the whimpering man to the couch and satiated his pent-up lust. When he was done, he stood over Jared and threatened to take their sons if Jared ever thought of leaving him again before going upstairs to bed. Jared’s things ended up being moved the next day…into Timothy’s room.

Timothy realized that night that it was his claim on the twins and not Jared that gave him power. With the merest threat of separation, Timothy had complete control over the other man. He isolated him, forbidding him to see his meddling family and interfering friends, the ones that gave Jared the idea to leave him. The only concession he made was allowing Jared to see that idiot, Chad, knowing the guy posed no threat. Temper unleashed, Timothy found it difficult to keep it in check and watching Jared, big and strong, cower in fear was headier than he could ever imagine. He bought gifts in way of apology, a sliding scale based on the severity of the beating, and tenderly doted on him, feeding him in bed and pampering him after each episode, the kindness confusing the younger man more than the cruelty. 

When Benjamin and Theodore’s hair starting coming in, ash blonde and fair, Timothy stared into their verdant eyes and was suddenly seized by the need to impregnate Jared. After that first night he took Jared forcibly, he’d considered it his right to have Jared whenever and wherever he wanted and the young man had learned it was easier to allow it to happen, but having a baby at least deserved a conversation. He broached the subject with Jared several times, but Jared always said that the doctor had advised him not to have more children after the complications of his last pregnancy. Disbelieving Timothy, would not be deterred. He called in favors and was able to get a several month supply of Jared’s birth control pills, some that did not contain any of the medication needed to prevent pregnancy. A year of no results, Timothy visited his doctor to have a few tests run. The day he got the results, he fucked his new assistant, Matt Cohen, against the wall of his office then went home and threw Jared through a mirror for not picking up the dry cleaning. As Jared sobbed on the ground, he threw his shirt at Jared, telling him to clean up the mess he’d made. He smirked when Jared’s eyes widened as Matt’s cologne drifted up to him from the tailored shirt. 

Their lives moved on, the sex becoming increasingly rougher and the abuse increasingly more brutal. Jared tried to fight in the beginning, but Timothy quickly taught him that it was useless. The gifts stopped as Timothy started enjoying the ways he broke Jared. He learned exactly which palms to grease to keep the police away and made sure that Jared knew they wouldn’t help him. He didn’t try to hide his affair with Matt, reveling in the humiliation and pain on Jared’s face. Timothy controlled every aspect of Jared’s life – work and home. He micromanaged Jared’s meals and money, putting the man on a strict allowance for both. His life was good, he had the perfect boyfriend and the perfect lover – both the envy of all his friends. That was until he came home to an empty house and Jared’s car missing. He’d flown into a rage, most of the house suffering his ire. 

He considered letting Jared go, his arm candy appeal lessening over the years, but Timothy had always been possessive and the thought of giving up something that belonged to him was unacceptable. He was going to get Jared back and he was going to make him pay. Injury was added to insult when Pileggi informed him that Jared had found comfort in the arms of his old rival, providing glossy 5x8 proof.  It didn’t take much for Pileggi to find the skeletons in Ackles’ closet and for Timothy to broker a deal.

He kept his distance at first, waiting for the right moment. Patience was a virtue and in this respect he was goddamn righteous. He spied on them, an ever-vigilant shadow that dogged their unknowing steps.  He clenched his jaw seeing Jensen with Jared, the joint aching under the pressure as he witnessed each kiss and touch, and he gritted his teeth, wearing layers of enamel away, every time the twins regarded Jensen with a look of adoration or love. Through the jealousy, he did have to admit that Jared looked good. He’d filled out his frame again, adding lean weight and muscle mass that made his body more reminiscent of its god-like glory days before he’d lost his figure carrying the Satan spawn. He remembered what it felt like to have that power under his hands, under his control, and he laughed at himself for ever thinking he could let Jared go. There was no longer any question in his mind. He had to get Jared…and make Jensen answer for daring to take him.

Timothy watched as Jensen’s black muscle car pulled out of Jared’s driveway, taillights fuzzy in the early morning fog. The good Deputy Sheriff was off to a conference in Denver for the week, not yet knowing the shitstorm he was driving into. Timothy started his car and pulled back onto the road, smirking. Soon. His patience was about to pay off because good things always come to those who wait.


	16. Chapter 16

“And the turtles, of course…all the turtles are free as turtles and, maybe, all creatures should be.”  Jensen sighed as he drew the story to a close.

“Say good night, boys,” Jared’s soft voice broke the gentle hush that followed the end of the story.

Jensen chuckled at the staticy sound of enthusiastic kisses being sent over the telephone line.  “Good night, Papa Jensen. Sleep tight, don’t let the bed bugs bite!”

“Night, Benji boy,” he smiled, pressing the button to turn off the e-reader in his hand.

Next came shy, more timid kisses. “Good night, Papa Jensen.”

“Good night, Teddy bear. You and your brother be good for Daddy and I’ll be home tomorrow.”

“Kay,” Teddy replied, answer slurred around a yawn.

He heard Jared laugh softly and the muted click that indicated that the hands-free had been turned off. “Hey, Deputy?”

“Yeah, Jared?”

“Give me a second, okay?”

“Sure.” Jensen could hear the low sounds of Jared bidding the twins good night and he smiled at the images his mind conjured of Jared pressing tender kisses to their foreheads.  He tucked the e-reader back into the side compartment of his suitcase where he’d found it on arriving in Denver three nights earlier. Teddy once told him that ‘Father’ never read to them, hated it when Jared would, and how much Teddy liked that Jensen did. Jensen had forced his lips into a soft smile, glad his boys liked the quiet time they spent together each night, while he silently seethed at the waste of a father Timothy had turned out to be. How could someone have these devilish angels around and not want to constantly spend time with them? How could you not love them? Not want to give them everything and more? Timothy had had them for six years without their bright light affecting him.  Jensen had had them for less than six months and already he knew he would never be the same. 

Jensen had always wanted children…someday – an abstract date in the future when his life was settled and he’d sowed all his wild oats. It was the only point of contention in his previous relationship with Jared. Jared wanted something more concrete than someday. He knew, more than his job and family, that Jared had stayed in Savannah over that nebulous timeline and Jensen spent the next six years wondering if he’d been more flexible on the issue whether Jared would have followed him to the Windy City. Now, there were times when he was doing something so mundane – tucking the twins in at night, making them breakfast, tying loose shoelaces – and he stopped for a minute awestruck at how paternal it felt, how natural, how _right_. For someone who swore he wasn’t ready for kids – had given up on the idea completely after Jared – he couldn’t see his life without Jared’s boys…his boys. He knew he wasn’t their blood – that his DNA had nothing to do with the conception of those two exceptional creatures – but in all the ways that counted, they were his sons and he was dead set on proving that nurture was stronger than nature.  

He looked over at the small velvet box resting innocuously on the nightstand. If his plans worked out, hopefully, one day he and Jared could give the twins a little brother or sister. When he dreamed of their life together, the image in his mind’s eye was always the same: Jared in his arms, entwined hands winking with matching gold and resting on the full roundness of Jared’s pregnant belly, watching the twins run around the backyard as the strong flutterings of new life nudged against their palms. They’d never discussed marriage or children, not even in the dark quiet of their bedroom, late at night. Jensen knew that Jared had turned down Timothy’s proposals over the years and that the refusals had been more fuel for Timothy’s explosive rage, but he truly hoped that the bastard hadn’t turned Jared off the idea completely. The things that Jensen had rejected a lifetime ago in that seaside town in Georgia were now the very things he was worried he wouldn’t be allowed to have.

“You still there, Deputy?”

“Yeah,” he surfaced from his musings and kneaded his tired eyes with his knuckles.

“You sound exhausted. Long day?” 

“It kinda was. I mean, listening about the newest technology is interesting and all, but you can only hear the words ‘latest advancement’ so many times before you want to take your service revolver to yourself.” Jensen stretched out on his bed, staring at the empty spot beside him.

“Nice, Deputy,” Jared admonished, making his way down the stairs.

“Everything okay there? Chris at the house with you?” The frantic call he received from JG and Tom at Christmas about a mysterious, threatening man had been a cold dash of reality. Without hearing the description Jensen had known it was Timothy and from the terrified look on Jared’s face, he’d known it too. He’d held Jared close that night, one hand shushing the frightened whimpers that Jared couldn’t contain and soothing Jared’s shaking body while the other dialed the phone. An hour later, the entire Plains County Sheriff’s Department was scouring every inch of their jurisdiction looking for the man that had dared to threaten the family of one of their own – not one complaining about being called in on Christmas Eve. They didn’t find Timothy that night, his apparent disappearance into the ether doing nothing to allay Jared’s fears or Jensen’s anger. His presence may have been gone, but it was long from forgotten. 

By the time Jensen was scheduled to attend the yearly law enforcement convention, two months had passed without further incident. Jared and Jensen weren’t convinced Timothy had given up, it was now more a question of _when_ , not _if_. The constant state of high alert both men lived with as they waited for the bastard to make his move had Jensen trying to beg off the convention entirely, but Sheriff Jones insisted that the department be represented – citing the impending birth of his granddaughter as his reason for not attending . Jensen argued that his family needed him, going so far as to threaten resignation, and in the end they’d reached a grudging compromise: Jensen would attend and Sheriff Jones would arrange for someone to be at the house with Jared and the kids while Jensen was gone. Chris had offered himself up as bodyguard and Jensen was relieved that his best friend was there protecting his family.

Jensen couldn’t think of anyone better to look after Jared and the kids. Chris didn’t have any real family to speak of. He was an only child and the parents that had been so proud of him for graduating Mercer with a Bachelor’s in Criminal Justice, promptly disowned him when he came out to them less than a year later. The Ackles and Steve were his family now. It was a given that Chris would love Jared and the twins simply because Jensen did – Chris and Jared had been close before – but Jared and Teddy and Benji wormed themselves into the man’s heart all on their own. He treated Jared like a brother and the twins like nephews and Jensen knew Chris would do anything to protect them.  Family meant something more when you understood how precious it was. 

“Yes, he’s here, but if I have to hear once more about how much he misses Steve, _I_ may need your service revolver.” Jared winked at the broad shouldered man in question as he sat down on the couch.

“That bad, huh?” Jensen chuckled. As much as Chris exuded this tough guy persona, when it came to Steve, he was nothing more than a large ball of fluff.

“You have no idea,” Jared replied with mock seriousness, sticking his tongue out at Chris playfully. “All babysitting and no sex make Chris a very grumpy boy.”

“It’s been three days!” Chris defended.

Jensen was well aware it had been three days, his body itching for Jared like a drug addict needing another fix. You could only get so far with your right hand and your imagination. Sex was a participation sport, after all. “Hey,” Jensen sat up, a thought occurring to him. “What’re you wearing?”

Jared’s brow furrowed at the question and he looked down. “Um, my gray sweatpants and your old Mercer t-shirt. Why?”

“Mmmm,” Jensen hummed. “I love when you wear that shirt. It’s worn so thin, I can see your nipples through it. Makes me want to lean over and lick them, make them pebble up into tight little nubs, bite them just to hear that gaspy noise you make. Would you like that, Jared?”

He could hear the harsh huffs of Jared’s breaths and he smiled. Jared was always a sucker for dirty talk. “Y-yeah,” Jared stammered.

“That’s what I thought,” Jensen purred. “Just lay you out on the couch, licking and sucking those little rosy buds until you’re gasping and squirming. Hook my hands into your sweats and lower them down, kissing each inch as it’s exposed, nibble on those delectable hipbones. Free that beautiful cock of yours so I can put my hot, wet mouth,” he breathed the words, reveling in the broken whimper Jared let out, “on it. Trail my tongue down, give your balls some love so they aren’t jealous. First one then the other before moving down to the real prize. Flick my…”

“Oh my God,” Chris’ shocked voice echoed over the line. There was a scuffle over the phone then Chris voice came through loud and clear. “Stop with the phone sex, Jensen, or at least take it to another room. There are some things I don’t need to see, and Jared all hot and bothered is definitely one of them.”

Jensen could hear Jared sputtering in the background and he couldn’t help himself. The laughter spilled from his lips.  “Yeah, yeah,” Jensen managed through his dying chuckles, his erection flagging at being caught. “I promise to be good.”

“Okay then,” Chris conceded, “Now that I’ve mortified your boy, I’ll let him have the phone back.”

Jensen heard some shuffling and then Jared’s muffled, “Oh, _God_.”

“You forgot he was there, didn’t you?” Jensen asked smugly.

“I had other things on my mind at the time!”

“Sorry, babe. I wasn’t trying to embarrass you.” Jensen’s last word was cut off by a large yawn.

 Jared smiled fondly. “Let me let you go so you can get some sleep.”

“That’s probably for the best. There’s this breakfast thing in the morning and a small dog and pony show, then I should be on my way home.”

“Sleep well and drive careful. I love you, Deputy.”

“I will. I love you too, Jared.” 

Jensen pressed the button to end the call and rose from the bed, heavily contemplating a quick shower. A knock had him frowning and he made his way to the door, pulling it open to reveal two men in drab suits.

“Deputy Sheriff Ackles?” The shorter of the two fixed Jensen with a serious look.

“Yes?” He answered cautiously, gaze flicking between the two men.

Simultaneously they pulled leather cases from the inside pockets of their suits. With a quick flick of the wrist they opened the cases and flashed their badges, the shiny shields glinted in the overhead lighting of the hallway.  “My name is Detective O’Connell, and this is my partner, Detective Gaddis. We need you to come downtown with us for questioning.”

 

* * *

 

“So judging by the size of the tent you’re pitching, your snooki-ookums is missing you, huh?” Chris leaned his head back on Jared’s shoulder and batted his eyelashes at the younger man.

“I was not pitching a tent!” Jared exclaimed, his hand moving to cover the evidence of his dwindling erection.

Chris rolled his head on Jared’s shoulder and quirked a disbelieving eyebrow, “Jared, it was so big I was worried Boy Scouts would start showing up wanting to camp.” 

“That’s…disturbing actually,” Jared grimaced. Laughing, he rolled his eyes and shoved Chris away with a palm to the forehead. “Like you haven’t been pining over your pookie all week.”

“That’s Mr. Pookie to you,” Chris smirked, righting himself. Picking up the remote, he flicked past a few channels before blowing out an irritated breath. “There’s nothing on. What do you normally watch on Thursdays? I’m usually at the bar.”

“We mainly watch whatever’s on the History or Discovery channels,” Jared yawned, not sleeping well for the three days Jensen had been gone was taking its toll, “Only day of the week I care what’s on is Wednesday.”

Chris nodded absently, thumb cycling through the stations faster than before, finally settling on ‘Iron Man’. Tossing the remote on the cushion between them, he sipped his warming beer. “This good?”

“Yeah, I’ve actually never seen it.” Jared shifted into the corner of the couch, tucking his legs under his body.

Chris’ eyes went wide and he choked on his beer. “What do you mean you haven’t seen it? What hole have you been living in?”

Jared stared at the screen, taking in the violence. “Timothy didn’t like going to the movies.”

“Oh, Jared,” Chris voice softened. “I didn’t…” It had never occurred to Chris that Jared would have been with Timothy when the original movie came out.

“It’s okay,” Jared said automatically, emotionlessly. They sat in silence for a few minutes then Jared spoke again, eyes never leaving the television. “Jensen told you why I ran away, didn’t he?” The questions was tentative and curious, not a hint of accusation or anger.

“No,” Chris sat up, “Jensen didn’t tell me a reason. He wouldn’t do that. I just…Well, I went to school with Timothy, too. Remember? I knew what he was like and with how you acted and looked when you arrived…”

“Didn’t take much to figure it out, huh?” Jared looked at him with a blank expression, nodding. 

Chris studied his friend for a long moment. Jensen wasn’t the only one with experience in dealing with abuse victims. Jared was healing from whatever Timothy had done to him, but Chris could see the self-doubt that Jared tried to hide from Jensen. “You know it’s not your fault, right?

“Everyone keeps telling me that.” He smiled tightly and turned back to the movie. He huffed a mirthless laugh. “You know, Timothy was extremely jealous. Was convinced that everyone wanted me – the check-out kid at the grocery store, the twins’ preschool teacher, the babysitter, his business associates. If anyone showed me any attention…” Jared trailed off, shaking his head, “it wasn’t good. This guy, Ian something, and I were talking at this stupid party about the movie and I mentioned I wanted to see it. He offered to take me and Timothy heard.” Jared paused, fingers twisting the hem of his borrowed t-shirt. “By the time I was well enough to leave the house again, the movie wasn’t playing in theaters anymore.”

Chris swallowed his anger and horror. “Do you want me to find something else?”

Jared blinked rapidly, coming back from wherever his memories had taken him. Scrunching his eyebrows in confusion, he shook his head. “No. Of course not. I still want to see it.”

Chris considered his friend for a minute, amazed at what Jared had survived. “I won’t let him hurt you again, Jared. You know that, right? Nobody in this town will.” He leaned back on the couch again.

Jared smiled, a small but genuine one, and nodded, turning his attention back to the adventures of Tony Stark.

Sometime later, Chris nudged Jared’s calf with his socked foot, both their feet propped up on the coffee table. “If you were a superhero, which one would you be?”

“I’m clearly not the hero type,” Jared’s eyes went unfocused.

The older man jostled his shoulder. “Come on, man. I’m not going to drop you in radioactive waste or anything. For shits and giggles, who would you be?”

“I’d probably be a lame hero,” Jared smiled, ruefully. “My power would be talking to cockroaches or something and I’d trip on my own cape.” Seeing the protest on Chris’ lips, Jared intercepted with a question of his own. “Who would you be? The Hulk?”

“The Hulk?” Chris frowned.

“Yeah, peaceful and mild-mannered until someone pissed you off.”

Chris shook his head, leaning forward to set his now empty bottle on the coffee table. “Guess that makes Steve Betty Ross?”

“Nah,” Jared disagreed, getting into the game now. “This is the GLAAD version of the Avengers. With all that long, blonde hair, Steve would be Thor.”

Chris threw his head back in laughter, hands clapping out his amusement. “Oh, God. That’s priceless. So that would make Jenny…? Iron Man?” He gestured at the television where Tony Stark was trying to seduce a blonde reporter.

“No,” Jared answered soberly, “Jensen’s not that arrogant. He’d be…” Jared pursed his lips in thought then smiled. “Captain America, all-American superhero with a heart of gold.”

“You are such a sap,” Chris rolled his eyes, the smile in his voice taking the sting out of the comment. “I can see him now. He’d be running around Wowakan saving cats from trees and standing on benches with his hands on his hips.”

“He would look good in the blue spandex, though,” Jared licked his lips at the thought.

“Whoa! Enough of that or I’ll take you outside and hose you down. Anyway, we still haven’t decided who you’d…” His words were cut off by the ringing of his cell phone. Frowning at the caller ID, he answered it. “Welling?”

Jared kept his eyes on the television to give Chris a modicum of privacy during his call, but couldn’t help overhearing. 

“What?!” Chris sat forward, body tense. “Is he all right?”

Jared turned to face the other man at the alarm he could hear in his voice, eyebrows raised in question. 

“That little peckerhead,” Chris grumbled. “Is JG gonna press charges?”

Jared sat up at his friend’s name, worried that Timothy had come back around looking for Jared again. Chris seeing his apprehension waved him off.

“Wait, what?” Chris switched the phone to his other ear and cradled it between his head and shoulder, using his now free hands to tug his boots on. “Why are you arresting _him_?” Running a hand through his hair, he sighed. “Okay, okay. Shit! Tell him to stay calm and not do anything stupid. I’ll be there…” He trailed off, eyes cutting over to Jared.

Jared was already shaking his head, not fully understanding the situation but knowing that his friends needed Chris to be with them. “Go,” he said forcefully.

Chris hesitated, the war going on behind his eyes evident.

“Go!” Jared repeated, insistently.

Brown eyes filled with appreciation as Chris returned his attention to the man on the other end of the line. “Tom? Yeah, I’ll be there in fifteen minutes tops. Thanks.”

Hanging up the phone, he turned to Jared. “Jared, I’m so sorry. Ed showed up at the FireWater tonight and assaulted JG.” 

“Ed? Westwick? That guy that Jensen slept with. He’s in all the time. He’s crude and snotty, but couldn’t hurt a fly.”

“I know, right?! Apparently something got into him and he came across the bar at JG. From what Welling said, he got a couple of good punches in before anyone was able to pull him off. Unfortunately for Ed, that person was Tom Hardy.” Chris scrubbed a hand down his face.

“Oh God,” Jared moaned. JG and Tom had been dating since sometime around Christmas and it was no secret that Tom was extremely protective of JG. On the nights that the younger man worked, Tom was always close by, silent and intimidating. He’d become an unofficial bouncer, deterring those that had a mind to get into trouble by his mere presence. “Is Ed still alive?”

“Sounds like what he did to JG pales in comparison to what Tom did to him. Welling said JG’s mainly shook up, a few bruises maybe a concussion. Ed, on the other hand? His nose is definitely broken and possibly his wrist and jaw too. I guess, Tom just wailed on him. It took Welling, Rosenbaum, Steve and Penn to pull him away so he didn’t kill the guy.”

“Did Ed say why he did it? I mean, he really didn’t strike me as the violent type. He always seemed more underhanded than anything.” Jared knew that JG and Ed went to school together and that JG had a low opinion of Ed, but they’d been out of school for a while and Ed was at FireWater almost every night. Why now? Why all the sudden did he decide to attack JG? And why of all things did he do it when JG’s brick shithouse of a boyfriend was standing there?

“Ed’s not talking, although it might be difficult with a broken jaw. JG is pressing charges but so is Ed.  Welling and Rosenbaum are down there trying to arrest them and Steve is not happy. They need me to get down there and cool him off before they have to take him in too.” Looking around the house in thought, he flipped his phone back open. “I’m gonna call Alex and Karen to come stay with you.”

“No, you’re not!” Jared grabbed the phone out of his hand. “It’s after ten and you know they’re asleep. Chris, I’ll be fine,” he reassured, biting his lip and forcing more confidence in his voice than he actually felt. 

Holding his hand back out for his phone, Chris growled in complaint. “At least let me call Austin.”

“No,” Jared protested again, “Sandy and Milo are babysitting Dalton and Hunter tonight so Austin and Genevieve could have some adult time. I refuse to cockblock Austin over this.” His eyes softened in sincerity, “I promise, Chris. We’ll be fine. I - I have the gun that Jensen left if there’s a problem and the entire Plains County sheriff’s office on speed dial, including the Sheriff. Go,” he made a shooing motion with his hands. “Hulk smash and save Thor’s pretty ass from going to jail.”

Jumping up from the couch, Chris leaned over and pressed a hard kiss to the top of Jared’s head. “I knew there was something I always liked about you.” 

Jared rolled his eyes affectionately. Six months ago, he’d have flinched at the contact, flung himself away and hidden in the corner. Now, it was just a part of his life – hugs, kisses, touches – love communicated in ways that didn’t hurt. Jared got up and walked Chris to the door, “Besides the blackmail material I provide you about Jensen?”

“That too,” he smiled, stepping on the porch. “Just so you know, if Jensen kills me, I’m coming back to haunt your ass.” 

“Understood,” Jared nodded, “I take full responsibility. Call me and let me know everything turned out all right.”

“Will do. I’ll be back once I get this all straightened out.” Chris bounded down the steps and to his truck parked next to Jared’s. Opening the door, the called back to the other man, “Don’t forget to lock the door.”

“Doing it now,” Jared waved, shutting the door and thumbing the lock into place. Leaning his back against the door, he took a steadying breath. It was the first time he’d been alone in the house since Christmas and the quiet was a little unnerving. Squaring his shoulders, he went back into the living room, deciding to finish the movie before heading up to bed. Timothy had taken six years of his life and Jared refused to let him take another minute.

 

* * *

 

Jensen tapped his thumbs on the Formica topped table, beating out a rhythm of his own design. He’d been in this interrogation room for the last four hours and had yet to have anyone ask him the first question. Despite the need to call Jared to let him know what had happened and reassure himself that his boyfriend was okay, Jensen had used his one phone call judiciously. Two hundred and forty minutes of looking at gray-green walls and a one way mirror made him want to regret that decision. His head snapped up as the door to the hallway opened and a tall, handsome man with blonde hair and brown eyes entered. His expensive suit concealed an agile body, but couldn’t disguise the natural grace with which the man moved. Jensen stood up and smiled.

“Jake,” he breathed, extending his hand out to the new arrival. “Thank you so much for coming.”

“Jensen,” Jake smiled, pulling his friend into a hug. “Of course, I came.” He set his briefcase down on the table and pulled out the chair to sit. Jake Abel owed Jensen a great deal.  Their relationship had burned fast and bright, a flash flame of attraction settling into embers of a comfortable friendship that both men cherished. Jensen was one in a handful of people that supported him during his plagiarism hearings at Mercer, loyal and stalwart until the damning gavel pounded out his expulsion. After, when Jake was in the depths of despair, spiraling lower at the idea of his future being snatched away, Jensen was the one that encouraged him to apply to another university and plead his case with their unbiased admissions board. Mrs. Hodges at the University of Georgia was the only one who took the time to hear his side of the story and after some investigating deemed there hadn’t been enough facts to justify his expulsion. She fought for him to the admissions board and eight years later, he graduated as a Bulldog with a law degree. 

Jensen took his seat again and rubbed his hands over his weary face. “Do you have any idea what’s going on? Nobody’s said a fucking thing to me.”

Jake’s face became somber and he popped the clasps on his briefcase, lifting the lid to reveal a stack of papers. “Do you remember a case back in Chicago where you arrested a,” he pulled a sheet of paper from the pile, “Mark Pellegrino?”

Jensen’s eyes narrowed for a minute before a smirk spread across his face, “Yeah, guy was a well-to-do mucky-muck down on Michigan Avenue. Liked to spend his free time fucking underage boys then beating the shit out of them. We’d had him under investigation for a while, but couldn’t pin anything on him. The maid found one of the kids tied to the bed, half-dead, and she and her husband, his chauffeur, turned him in. He avoided jail time on the rape and assault charges, said that the boys came with him willingly and the beatings were part of the games they played, and the kids were too scared to say otherwise. The victims wouldn’t testify that they were forced, but did admit to their ages when the acts occurred. It was enough to get him for statutory rape.” Jensen shook his head chagrined. “It was like getting Al Capone on tax evasion.”

Jake nodded, “So you remember the maid and her husband?”

“Yeah. Name was something music related,” he scrunched his forehead in thought. Face smoothing out, he snapped his fingers and pointed at Jake, “Treble. Martha and…” he shook his head.

“David,” Jake supplied.

“That’s it. Martha and David Treble. Nice people, from France or Belgium or something. What does that have to do with any of,” he waved his hand around to encompass the small, dingy room, “this?”

Jake set the paper down and folded his hands on top of it. He leveled Jensen with a serious look. “The Trebles recently came forward, claiming an attack of conscience, with accusations that you coached them through their statements, telling them what to say to ensure an indictment. They stated that you coerced them into testifying to begin with, threatening them with revocation of their work visas if they didn’t cooperate.”

“That’s bullshit!” Jensen jumped to his feet in indignation.

“It gets worse,” Jake pulled another sheet out of his briefcase. “The Chicago PD started nosing around to verify the veracity of the Trebles accusations, their work visas are up for renewal again and there was concern that this was a ploy to guarantee they were extended. They talked to the victims and other witnesses to see if they had similar allegations. Two of the victims, Blaine Phillips and Jesse McArthur, stated that you promised to have their juvenile records expunged if they lied to authorities about the date when their sexual relationship with Mr. Pellegrino started. Supposedly, you advised them to say it was earlier than it was; therefore, making them younger and strengthening the statutory rape case.”

“You gotta be fucking kidding me!” Jensen kicked his chair. “I didn’t even know they _had_ juvenile records.”

“Jensen,” Jake started, placating, “Detectives O’Connell and Gaddis are going to be in here soon to ask you a few questions.”

“I know how an interview works, Jake,” Jensen snarled, righting his chair and plopping down on it.

Jake took a deep breath, centering himself so he met Jensen’s aggravation with patience. “Just be your charming self and try to keep the snark in check. They are going to charge you with coercion of a witness, obstruction of justice, falsifying records and blackmail. More than likely you’ll be booked with a bail hearing scheduled for sometime early next week.”

“That’s fucking unacceptable! I didn’t do anything wrong! I have a family I have to get back to. They don’t even know that something has happened.” Jensen’s body was trembling with impotent anger. It was bad enough that people were disparaging his character, but now it was going to keep him from family when they needed him.

“I understand you’re angry, but I need you to calm down. I’ve looked over the statements by the Trebles, Phillips and McArthur. They look pretty iron-clad, but there are some things I want to look into and it’s going to take some time.  All we can do is wait for the bail hearing. Just play nice and hopefully by Tuesday you’ll be home.”

“Be straight with me. If somehow they get a conviction, what are we looking at?” He knew that all too often innocent people did guilty time.

There was a hint of sadness on Jake’s face and Jensen felt his stomach clench. “Best case scenario, they take your badge. Worst case, you do time.”

“Fuck!” Jensen covered his face with his hands, running them up until his forehead rested in his palms. He took a calming breath, shoulders rising and falling with the deliberate inhale and exhale. “I need you to call Jared and Chris. Fill them in on what’s happened.”

“Absolutely!” Jake rummaged through his still open briefcase and pulled a pad from one of the pockets. Sliding the pen out of his shirt pocket, he handed it to Jensen. “Write down their numbers and I’ll call them first thing.”

Jensen scribbled the number for his boyfriend and best friend on the pad and shoved it back over to Jake. Jake picked it up, a small smile tugging the corners of his lips up. “You’re with Jared again, huh?”

“Yeah,” Jensen answered, tiredly, fingers kneading the muscles at the base of his skull. “I gotta get home to him Jake. It’s important.”

Jake narrowed his eyes, unused to Jensen pleading. “What’s going on Jensen?”

Jensen laced his fingers together and set his hands on the table. “You know that Jared and I broke up when I moved to Chicago.” He waited for Jake’s nod. Jake hadn’t been around the first time, away in Athens trying to finish his last few years of school, but he’d kept in touch with Jensen.  “Well, Jared got mixed up with Timothy after I left.”

Jake pulled back in shock. “How? Why?!”

“Not important,” Jensen answered, “Jared ended up pregnant with twins. He spent six…unpleasant years with Timothy. He finally got away last September.”

“Unpleasant?” Jake repeated questioningly, shivering at the unpleasantness he’d heard about from some of Timothy’s other dates. He’d always been grateful for meeting Jensen when he did and never pursuing anything with Timothy further. Honestly, he believed he’d dodged a bullet there.

“Yeah, pretty much what you’re thinking.”  Jensen stared at his hands.

“But he got away, right? He’s safe?” Jake prompted, not understanding why Jensen was still so worried.

“He was until Timothy showed up at the bar where Jared works on Christmas Eve. Jared wasn’t there, but he threatened a few people trying to find out where Jared was.”

“You tried restraining orders? I could draw one up for you,” Jake suggested.

Jensen snorted. “You’ve spent too much time in the courtroom. You know what Timothy is like. Do you honestly think a restraining order is gonna stop him from getting Jared? From hurting him?”

“No, I suppose not. Who’s with him now?”

“Chris.” Jensen blew out a long breath. “Jake, I will do _anything,”_ green eyes glinted with meaning, “to keep Jared safe, but I can’t do that from here. I need to get back home.” 

“Okay, Jensen.” Jake put the papers back in his briefcase. “First, I’m going to pretend I didn’t hear any implied threat in that last statement. Second, let me see what I can do about moving your bail hearing up and start picking apart the prosecution’s case. “

“Thanks, Jake.” Jensen deflated into the chair, the strings keeping him upright cut.

“You’re serious about him?” 

Jensen looked up, his features soft and fond. “Picked up my grandfather’s wedding band from the jeweler this afternoon. Had to have it cleaned and resized.”

“Wow,” Jake whistled softly, “I guess that answered that.”

“Yeah.”

“I’m really happy for you, Jensen.”

“What about you, Jake? You happy?”

“I’m good, Jensen. Really good. I’ve got somebody, now. His name’s Tyler Hoechlin and he runs a little coffee shop down the street from my house.” Jake ducked his head and blushed. “We’re not to the picking out rings portion of the relationship yet, but I think he’s my one. My Jared.”

“That’s fantastic. You deserve someone great. How’s about we get this wrapped up so we can both get back to the ones we love?” Jensen clapped his friend on the back.

 

* * *

 

Jared blinked his tired eyes open, the credits for a movie he didn’t remember watching scrolling up the television screen. He must have fallen asleep. Squinting at the numbers on the DVD player, he was shocked to see that he’d been out for a few hours. Yawning, he fumbled with the remote and turned the television off.

Getting to his feet, he was startled by a firm knock on the door. Snorting, he shuffled his way to the front foyer. Chris always forgot that the extra key was under the porch swing. Half-asleep he opened the front door, another yawn taking him by surprise. Squeezing his eyes closed in the hopes of forcing the sleepiness from them, he opened them with a smart remark ready for his forgetful friend. “I should leave you out here…” His breath caught in his throat and the rest of the sentence died on his tongue. Jared stood frozen in place, eyes glued to the waking nightmare before him. 

The tall man smirked and his voice washed over Jared like honeyed poison. “Hi, honey, I’m home.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Jensen's bedtime story is Yertle the Turtle by Dr. Seuss


	17. Chapter 17

Jensen signed his name and slid the clipboard through the pass-through slot in the Plexi-glass shield to the officer on the other side of the counter. A manila envelope came back in return and he nodded his thanks to the bored policeman, stepping away to let the person behind him have his turn. Opening the envelope, he dug his cell phone from his confiscated personal effects and thumbed the power button. The service provider logo filled the screen, blinked twice, and then went black. Jensen huffed an aggravated sigh. He really shouldn’t have been surprised. He’d been in the city’s holding cell for three days and his battery wasn’t that great at keeping a charge to begin with. He just wanted to call and check in with Jared.  When he’d asked Jake if he’d gotten a hold of Chris and Jared, the man’s face was nervous when he said that he’d talked to Chris but had not been able to reach Jared. Jake assured Jensen that Chris would get in touch with Jared, but uneasiness tingled down Jensen’s spine and made him even antsier to get home.

He’d seen Chris sitting in the back row during his bond hearing, _generously_ set low at $40,000 because he wasn’t a flight risk, but assumed Jared had stayed behind to be with the kids. They had school today and were probably upset that he hadn’t made it home yet. Slipping the worthless device into his back pocket, he rifled through the other items, putting them away as he walked out of the station.

The bright sunshine blinded him momentarily and he blinked away the sunspots, wishing his sunglasses had been among the belongings in the envelope. A shrill whistle caught his attention and he looked over to see Chris leaning back against his truck, arms crossed. Tilting his head in acknowledgment, he smiled and quickly made his way down the steps to his friend.

“Hey,” he greeted. “Thanks for coming to get me.”

“Who but your best friend would come pick your ass up from jail?” Chris smiled but it was strained and the uneasiness tingling Jensen’s spine intensified. “I picked up your shit from the hotel,” he jerked his head toward the back seat where Jensen’s suitcase could be seen. “I’m ready to go when you are.”

“What about my baby?” Between Jensen’s worries over his freedom and Jared’s safety, he’d had a few cursory thoughts about his car sitting in the hotel parking lot. That car had been a present from his Pawpaw and he couldn’t bear the thought of something happening to it.

“Steve came over with me yesterday and drove it back to your house. She’s fine and waiting for you to come home.”

“Where’s Jared?” Jensen felt his stomach clench. Why would Steve take the Impala to his house when he’d effectively moved in with Jared and the boys over the last few months?

“Couldn’t make it,” Chris shrugged enigmatically and Jensen’s stomach cramped.

“Where’s. Jared?” He asked again, enunciating each word so Chris would know better than to give him another flippant answer.

“Look, it’s fucking February in Denver,” Chris rubbed his hands together. “Can we continue this conversation in the car?” Without waiting for an answer, he rounded the front of the truck and slid into the driver’s seat.

Jensen stood beside the truck for a minute, listening to Chris fire the engine up, and waited to see if the bile he felt pressing against his throat would make it all the way up. He breathed slowly and surely, deep inhales with controlled exhales and when he felt the nausea was under control he slipped into the passenger seat.

It was Monday afternoon and the traffic in downtown Denver was just starting to thicken so Jensen bit his lip until they were past the city limits, letting Chris concentrate on getting them out of the capital in one piece. Once the urban buildings gave way to flat plain land, he turned in his seat to face his friend. “What happened?”

“It’s all my fault,” Chris started miserably, shaking his head slightly. “I knew something felt off, but…”

“Chris,” panic strangled the word and sped up his breathing, “what happened?”

Chris swallowed and took a calming breath and Jensen braced for the worst. “Thursday night after you talked to Jared, Welling called me to say that there was a brawl down at FireWater and I needed to get down there before he had to arrest Steve.”

“Why would he arrest Steve? Steve didn’t start the fight, did he?” Jensen had a bad feeling where this story was going. 

Chris quickly explained about Ed attacking JG, Tom defending his boyfriend and Steve taking exception to Welling and Rosenbaum arresting Tom. “I didn’t want to leave Jared, but he insisted that I go and take care of Steve.” Chris let out a breath that sounded like a sob and looked at his friend with guilt-ridden eyes. “I’m so sorry, Jenny. I should never have left him.”

Jensen’s whole body went numb. “Chris,” he swallowed to regain control of his voice, “you have to tell me right now… Where are Jared and the boys?”

The muscle in Chris’ jaw ticked. “At the house,” he answered and Jensen let out a sigh of relief, wondering what all the angst was over, a moment before it was made clear, “with Olyphant.”

“Olyphant?!” Jensen gasped, his hand going to the handle on the door.

“Yeah, Olyphant,” Chris confirmed, sounding as broken as Jensen felt. “Steve closed the bar early and we went back to Jared’s. When we got there, there was some shiny, foreign, piece of shit in front of the house and a stack of boxes on the porch. We went to the door to see what was going on and Timothy answered, smiling pretty as you please. He handed us both restraining orders to stay 500 feet away from the house and Jared then told us the boxes were your things and to get them off of his property.”

“Restraining orders?” Jensen repeated, dumbly. Shaking his head irritably, he asked, “ _His_ property?” 

“Yeah,” Chris huffed a humorless laugh. “Your folks, ‘Kota and Austin got ‘em too. Danneel did some digging and you’ve got one with your name on it waiting for you somewhere. Apparently, we’re all a danger to Jared and he feels his life is in jeopardy from us. Funny, though, they were issued last Tuesday. Before Timothy came back so he must have forged Jared’s signature.”

Jensen couldn’t breathe, his lungs felt like an iron fist was clamped around them, its mate clenching his heart. He licked his lips and consciously willed air in and out of his paralyzed chest. “Have,” he cleared his throat when his voice came out strained and breathy, “have you seen Jared?”

Chris shook his head. “No. Nobody has. Jared called Steve Friday morning and quit. Timothy went to the school and pulled the kids out saying he was going to have them home-schooled. From what I can tell, Jared and the boys are on full lock-down.”

“Oh, God!” Jensen leaned his head back on the headrest.

“Calm down, Jenny.” Chris soothed, gripping Jensen’s arm. “Sheriff Jones is having the department lawyer look at the restraining orders to see if there is a way around them. You’re suspended pending the outcome of this Chicago mess so he wants you to go home and lay low.”

“He’s out of his fucking mind!” Jensen exploded, his helplessness morphing into anger. “Jared was abused for years by the goddamn psychopath. He ran away because he thought Timothy was going to kill him! If Jones thinks I’m gonna sit on my thumbs while Timothy gets to prove Jared right then he’s got another thing coming!”

“No, Jensen, he doesn’t,” Chris tore his eyes from the road to level his friend with a stern glare. “Jones said if you get any closer to Jared’s house than your property line, he’ll run you in for violating the restraining order. “ At Jensen’s balking expression, Chris continued rationally. “Don’t give Timothy any ammunition. Once the lawyer has a chance to pick apart the restraining order then you can go in and beat the ever loving shit out of the bastard. Plus,” he added quietly, “life will probably be easier on Jared if you don’t piss Timothy off.”

Jensen’s mouth, open for rebuttal, snapped shut at Chris’ soft-spoken words. He could definitely see Olyphant taking his frustrations over Jensen out on Jared; he would probably consider it poetic justice or some crazy shit. He nodded his head and stared out the side window at the snow blanketed fields. “That lawyer better work pretty damn fast.”

 

* * *

 

Jensen rolled onto his side, glazed eyes staring unseeingly at the television as his hand reached over the edge of the couch searching for the bottle he knew he’d set there. It had been a week since he was released from custody and had learned of the shit-storm that happened while he was incarcerated. He’d managed, somehow, the first two days, barely making it from one second to the next, mind constantly supplying images of the things Timothy could be doing to Jared and his boys. Chris, Steve and his family were stalwartly at his side to keep him from going insane or, worse, going to Jared’s and ending up in the clink again. Then came the call from the department lawyer, followed quickly by one from Jake who’d taken a look at the restraining orders as well, both agreeing that they were tight, no wiggle room. The little bubble of hope Jensen had been holding onto burst as they explained – if he set foot on Jared’s property he would be arrested, that is, if Timothy didn’t shoot him first for trespassing.

He lifted the bottle and groaned at the piddly bit of amber lining the bottom. He swallowed down the liquid fire, the burn barely registering anymore, and tossed the bottle on the coffee table, scattering a phalanx of beer bottles like bowling pins, the empty containers rolling over the sides to the hardwood floor. Stumbling to his feet, he weaved his way to the kitchen and grabbed a fresh bottle of distilled anesthetic. 

On the way back to the couch, he bumped into the stack of boxes that Steve and Chris had carried from Jared’s house to his own, knocking the top two over. He’d opened them as soon as he got back from Denver, hoping for a note, something, from Jared to let him know he was okay, but all he found was a starched white piece of stationary, the stylized O preceded by a smaller T and followed by a smaller D at the top glaring up in red ink, with only the words _I win_ written in a messy scrawl. The crumpled sheet was tossed back in the box and Jensen hadn’t bothered with the stack again.

He made his way to the couch, kicking a few of the fallen beer bottles along the way, and flopped down on the cushions, steadily sipping himself into oblivion. His dreams were filled with hazel eyes and childish laughter as the half-empty bottle slipped from his loose grip to the floor, sloshing contents spilling, seeping into the wood.

 

* * *

 

“Jen?” There was an annoying knocking sound. Jensen growled his displeasure and rolled over to face the back of the couch.

“Jen?” The raps became harder and Jensen pulled the throw pillow from beneath his head to cover his face.

“Jensen!” There was a muffled grunt and the knocking stopped, but the voice was closer. The harsh clanking of glass on glass filtered through the batting over his ear and Jensen winced at the noise. The pillow was tugged away, the bright glare of morning stinging his eyes as he looked over his shoulder at Dakota standing behind him with the partially full bottle of Jack in one hand and a disgusted look on her face.

“Go away, ‘Kota,” he moaned, snagging the corner of the pillow in the hopes of hiding behind it again. He couldn’t stand the pitying look of disappointment on her face. It was one of the reasons he’d stopped answering the door two days into his bender when he saw it on the constant parade of people who insisted on stopping by to see if he was okay. How they thought he might be okay was beyond him. “Don’t need a lecture right now.”

She pulled the cushion further away from his hand and set the bottle on the table with a loud thunk, smiling at his pained groan. “You need your ass kicked, is what you need. God, it smells like the men’s room at a bar in here.” She wrinkled her pretty nose. “When was the last time you showered or had something to eat?”

Jensen shrugged lethargically, making another half-hearted attempt to grab the pillow. “What does it matter?” he muttered. “Got no job to go to or anyone to shower for.”

“Self-pity is not a good look on you, Jen.” She cleared a small spot on the coffee table and sat down facing him. “So this is the plan you devised to get Jared back? Drink yourself into a stupor? Gotta say, I don’t think it’s working all that well.”

“Fuck you, ‘Kota,” he snarled, sitting up slowly to try to keep his queasy stomach at bay. Taking a breath, he glared at his sister. “There is no getting Jared back. I can’t get within 500 feet of him or I’ll be arrested which violates my parole for the Chicago charges. Plus, I’m pretty sure Jared doesn’t want me to come for him.”

“What in the hell makes you say that?!” She yelled, her patience running thin. “Of course, Jared wants you to come for him.”

“Didn’t put up much of a fight when Timothy showed up, did he?” It had been eating at Jensen for days. Jared was a strong, mountain of a man. If he wanted to get away from Timothy, then he sure as hell could. 

“Yeah, you’re right,” Dakota snarked. “I’m sure Timothy is being so nice that Jared just doesn’t want to leave.” Her voice was getting louder. “I’m sure he’s not beating the tar out of Jared whenever he wants for running in the first place.” She held up her hand when Jensen opened his mouth, insistent on driving home her point. “I’m sure he didn’t threaten everything that Jared loves to make him stay.”

“ ‘Kota.”

“No, Jensen, you listen to me,” she fixed him with a cold stare, one he didn’t think she was capable of making. “That bastard has Jared’s number, knows his weaknesses. Jared would happily take any beating that asshole dished out if it meant keeping the ones he loves safe. So don’t you _even_ ,” her anger seethed through clenched teeth, “sit there and tell me that Jared is staying of his own free will, because you and I both know that it’s a lie.”

Jensen was humbled, but refused to admit his sister was right. He was angry and hurt, the separation from Jared and the boys like a physical pain he couldn’t soothe, and he needed someone to blame. Someone to aim his feelings at so they wouldn’t consume him whole. If she wouldn’t let Jared be a target, then he’d go to the next best thing. He turned narrowed, hate-filled eyes at his baby sister, his voice cold and callous. “None of this would have happened, if you’d kept your goddamn nose out of it six years ago.”

She shuddered at the venom in his tone and sucked her lips into her mouth to keep them from trembling. She nodded in agreement, the tears clinging to her bottom lids spilling over the edge and making wet tracks through the powder and rouge on her cheeks. “You’re right,” she mumbled brokenly and Jensen’s anger doubled. She sounded like Chris in the car ride from Denver – sorrowful and heart-broken. Didn’t they realize they had no right to feel that way? This was their faults – Dakota for being selfish all those years ago and Chris for leaving Jared alone. They should be guilty, ashamed, not mournful.  

“You bet your ass I’m fucking right!” He snatched the bottle from the table, done with this conversation.

Dakota grabbed it back, throwing it into the fireplace where it smashed against the stone. “Yes, you’re right, but at least I’m trying to do something to redeem myself.”

“Too little, too late,” Jensen scoffed, trying to stand only to lose his balance and sit back down hard.

“It might be,” she conceded, “but it’s a hell of a lot more than you’re doing unless you consider pickling your liver as productive!”

“ ‘Kota,” he licked his lips, gaze fixed on his clasped hands hanging between his knees. Closing his eyes and bit his upper lip, “it hurts to think,” he looked up at her, eyes shiny with unshed tears, “it hurts to _breathe_. There is this…ache, all the time. Like,” his voice broke, his fist coming up to press hard against his chest as his eyes fluttered closed again. “Like my soul died and forgot to tell my body.”

“Jensen,” she knelt down between his legs, hands coming up to cup his face. “I know it hurts and I’m so sorry.” Liquid salt rained from two sets of green eyes. “But if you want your family back, you’ve got to sober up, get your shit together and fight for them.” She pulled him in for a tight hug, smoothing her hands over his back. “We weren’t there for Jared the last time, but we’re here now. He needs us.”

He nodded his head into the crook of her neck, sniffling. A sudden wave of nausea assaulted him and he pushed her back forcefully, making it to the bathroom in time for four days worth of alcohol to make a reappearance. 

 

* * *

 

The first night was hell, leaving Jensen in a constant state of misery between sweating out the alcohol and his stomach getting its revenge for his mostly liquid diet of late. He was aware sometime in the night that Austin joined them, the soothing words floating past the pounding in his head alternating between masculine comfort and feminine nurture. 

He woke near dawn, ‘Kota lying next to him and wiping his face with a cool cloth that felt heavenly on his heated skin. He’d kept down the chicken broth she brought in a little while ago and he fervently hoped that it stayed down. The cloth disappeared and a glass was pressed to his lips. He managed a few thirsty gulps before she pulled it away. 

“Where’s,” he cleared his throat, the membranes feeling raw and tender. “Where’s Austin?”

“Sleeping,” she sighed. “He found your sleeping bags in with the camping stuff, so he’s sacked on the floor.” She jutted her chin to Jensen’s side of the bed and he rolled enough to see his brother sound asleep on a makeshift palette. 

“Why didn’t he take the couch?” 

“I’m not sure there’s any hope for your couch,” her face pinched in disgust, “we may have to burn it.”

“Damn, I liked that couch, too.” He hesitantly shifted, trying to find a more comfortable position. 

“We’ll have a memorial,” she smiled. “Give it a proper send-off. How’re you feeling?”

Jensen lay still for a minute, taking stock of his body. “I’m okay. Listen, ‘Kota.”

She shook her head, a finger coming up to press against his lips. “I’m surprised it took you that long to unleash on me about it. Knowing you the way I do, I think that had more to do with Jared than anything else.”

His fingers wrapped gently around her wrist and pulled her finger away from his mouth. “I still shouldn’t have said those things. I wasn’t even really angry at you, just…angry in general.”

“It’s okay, Jensen. I deserved it and so much more. Trust me, you can’t hate me anymore than I hate myself.” She averted her eyes to the ceiling, moisture glistening along her lower lashes as she tried to blink away the impending tears.

“I don’t hate you; never did,” he pulled her close, arms encircling her in a hug, “and neither does Jared.”

She stifled a sniffle in his chest. “Thanks.” They lay that way for a few minutes, giving and taking comfort in equal measures, until Jensen heard Dakota sniff then sniff again. She drew back from him.  

 “Jen, I love you and all, but, dude, you gotta take a shower ASAP.”

“Oh, jeez,” he pushed her away with a palm to the forehead, “I’ve seen some of your dates, you should be used to it.”

She shook her head at the jibe, “I do love you, Jen. We’ll figure this out.”

“Love you, too, sis.” He leaned over and pressed a kiss to her forehead.

“If you two are done braiding each other’s hair, will you _please_. Shut. The fuck. Up. And go to sleep,” Austin’s groggy voice floated up from the floor.

Jensen and Dakota’s eyes widened and they tried to suppress their giggles.

“God,” Austin irritably turned his head from side to side, mashing the pillow until he was comfortable, “you two are worse than Hunter and Dalton.”

Jensen and Dakota’s smiles widened. “Good night, Austin,” the sing-songed in chorus.

“Ugh,” Austin pulled his pillow out from under him and shoved it over his head. Some things never changed.

 

* * *

 

“Morning, little bro,” Austin greeted him cheerfully as he came into the kitchen fresh from the shower. “Feeling better?”

“Almost human,” Jensen’s voice was still rough, days of disuse and alcohol abuse followed by the Great Purging, as he was calling it in his mind, taking their toll. “Coffee fresh?”

“Yeah, I made it about a half hour ago.”

Jensen went to the coffee maker and grabbed a mug from the cabinet above, trying to ignore the way his hand had automatically gone to pull out a second mug. He heard a thump followed quickly by a pained groan and turned to see Dakota frowning at the door jamb like it had personally wronged her. “Wall jump out and get ya?”

Eyes still heavily lidded with sleep, she flipped him off. “Coffee,” she moaned, sitting next to Austin at the table with her head in her hands.

He snagged another mug from the shelf, consciously stopping his hand from adding a third teaspoon of sugar like it was used to doing. He nudged her gently with his arm and handed her the steaming cup, sitting down across from them with his own.

“I, uh, I just wanted to thank you guys for, you know, yesterday and last night.” He circled his fingers around the ceramic, letting the liquid warm his cool fingers.

“You should be kissing our asses, if ‘Kota hadn’t come over when she did you’d probably be dead from alcohol poisoning right now.” Austin stood up and took his empty cup to the sink.

Jensen stared at the butcher block table top, eyes skimming over the interlocking rectangles. He knew Austin wasn’t far off, judging by the amount of sour, whisky scented flop sweat he’d washed off his body in the shower this morning.

“What’s the plan for today?” Dakota sipped her coffee, hmmming in pleasure.

“You should go back to bed,” Austin frowned at the dark circles under his baby sister’s eyes. She’d stayed up half the night, tending to Jensen. “I’ve got 100 cows waiting to be milked so I’m going to work. Especially since the farm was used as collateral for your bail.” Austin washed his hands and wiped them clean on a dishtowel.

“You used the farm for my bail?” Jensen’s eyebrows shot up.

“Technically you own a fifth of it so consider your portion in hock.” Austin shrugged like he hadn’t placed his life’s work in jeopardy to get his little brother out of jail. The farm had been in the family for generations and Austin had taken over managing it ten years ago when their Uncle Joshua, his namesake, had been killed. The farm legally belonged to the living members of the Ackles family, but they deferred daily operations and major decisions to Austin.

“Let me go in and help you then. Might as well make myself useful,” Jensen started to stand, taking a few quick swallows of his coffee.

“Tomorrow,” Austin shook his head. “Today you need to finish your detox, Betty Ford, and clean up this pigsty. I think you’ll need a bucket of bleach for the living room alone.”

Jensen groaned, his head thudding against the table.

Austin clapped him on the shoulder as he left and Dakota offered a sympathetic smile as she disappeared into the bedroom to catch a couple more hours of sleep. Jensen got up and retrieved the bucket from under the sink and the cleaner.

 

* * *

 

 

“You sure Dakota and Austin okayed you coming out tonight? Way they talked, you were basically 80 proof two nights ago.” Chris plunked down on the stool next to him, eying his friend suspiciously.

Jensen shifted uncomfortably on his stool. “I’m a grown man. Don’t need permission from them to come out,” he grumbled. “Anyway it was their idea, thought the distraction,” he waved his hand toward the stage where Steve was setting up for him and Chris to play a few songs, “might help, so long as the strongest thing I drink is soda,” he meekly raised his glass of Coke. 

Chris chuckled, signaling for Joseph to get him one as well. “Speaking of distractions, I heard you helped Austin out on the farm today. Gotta say, man, I’m impressed.” He nodded his thanks when an iced glass of soda appeared in front of him. He absently noted that the bruising on Joseph’s face was fading into the jaundiced shade of healing. 

“Dude, you forget. I was a farm boy long before I was a cop. I grew up in that barn.” Jensen defended, watching Joseph and Tom talking intimately at the end of the bar from the corner of his eye. He didn’t miss the way Tom’s hand would come up and lightly trace the remaining evidence of Ed’s attack.

Chris followed his gaze and smirked at the town’s newest lovebirds. Taking a sip of his Coke and wishing it had a little less ice and a lot more rum, he looked at his friend. “Heard anything from Jake?”

“Day before yesterday while I was completing my _rehab_ ,” Jensen nodded at Tom when he noticed Jensen watching them. “Turns out that the renewal application on the Treble’s work visas had been flagged for review due to a technicality, a technicality that magically resolved itself the day after they signed their statements.”

“That’s interesting.”

“It gets better,” Jensen gave him a tight smile. “The two guys, Phillips and McArthur? Well, Phillips, he’d gotten himself in a little trouble for solicitation since I knew him.”

“Let me guess; the charges disappeared after he testified?” Chris shook his head in disbelief.

“Yep,” Jensen answered, lips popping the last consonant for effect.

“And McArthur?”

“Nothing on him, but Jake found where his baby-momma had a sizeable sum of money deposited in her account.” Eyebrows rose over sparkling green eyes.

“So Jake’s petitioning for a dismissal?” Chris couldn’t understand why Jensen wasn’t more stoked about the news.

“Not yet,” Jensen sighed. “Olyphant ain’t stupid. He covered his tracks pretty well, so right now Jake’s following the leads. He wants to bring Olyphant down. He’s looking into the possib – “ Jensen was cut off when someone sat down hard on the stool next to him, jostling his body and forcing him to spill his drink over his hand. Flinging the sticky soda from his fingers, Jensen scowled at the inconsiderateness of the new-comer.

“Jensen!” A warm, slightly sour breath ghosted over Jensen’s cheek and he flinched away, not realizing that the stranger had gotten so close. “Don’t be like that,” the voice purred and recognition hit Jensen.

“Ed?” He turned to see the dark-haired man smiling at him, his casted right arm propped against the bar. He quickly shot a glance at Tom who was staring at Ed with clenched teeth and a murderous look in his eyes while Joseph patted his forearm consolingly. It was in that moment that Jensen decided Ed was the dumbest motherfucker to ever walk the face of the Earth. 

“You’re not welcome in here anymore,” Chris stood, his eyes cutting to Steve still setting things up on stage, oblivious to the banned man’s presence. He and Steve might not have been quite as mad at Ed as Tom was but it wasn’t by much.

“Not welcome?” Ed asked with an innocent bat of his eyelashes, his hand stroking down Jensen’s back not deterred when Jensen shifted away. “Why not? You still let that gorilla in here.” He gestured over to where Tom was glaring daggers at him.

“He didn’t attack one of the employees and then cause a riot that forced the bar to shut down for the night,” Chris retorted, hoping to get rid of the asshole before Steve noticed him. Steve, and Chris to some extent, blamed Ed for Timothy being able to get to Jared. If he hadn’t started the fight that night, then Chris would never have left.

“Oh, please,” Ed rolled his eyes, moving closer to nuzzle against Jensen’s neck. “That was a high school rivalry that got out of hand. Anyway, I just came in to see Jensen.”

“Me?” Jensen batted Ed’s face away like the annoying fly he was, inwardly cursing his Impala’s conspicuousness. 

“Yeah,” he smiled coyly, finger tracing the seam of Jensen’s shirt sleeve. “I was wondering if you’d like to sign my cast.”

“What the…” Jensen was taken aback by the juvenile request. “No!” He shook his head, forehead creased in incredulity. “Why can’t you understand that I don’t want anything from you? I’m with Jared. I love Jared. End of story.”

“But…”

“Look, Ed,” he leveled the man with a serious stare, “if I was you, I’d get out of here before Tom breaks your other arm.”

“Or has another go at your jaw. Of course, personally, I would welcome the silence.” Chris sat down. Steve had gone into the storeroom and now that Chris didn’t have to worry about his partner going to jail, he was able to focus his own anger at the young man.

“You’re with Jared, end of story, huh?” Ed’s inviting expression turned dark, something unreadable and sinister brewing behind his eyes. “How’s that working for you now that Timothy is back in the picture?”

Chris and Jensen’s heads turned at the same time, snapping to the smug looking man. “Timothy?” Jensen repeated, voice eerily calm with a hint of mild curiosity.  People around town knew that Jared’s ex was in town, but only a handful of trusted people actually knew the man’s name and Ed definitely wasn’t among that privileged few.

“Yeah,” Ed snarked, “his ex-boyfriend. How exactly are you with Jared, if he’s shacked back up with Olyphant?”

Anger pulsed hot through Jensen’s body, his frame shuddering under the onslaught. He gripped his soda glass hard and narrowed his eyes at Ed. “What did you do?” he snarled, low and threateningly.

“What?” Ed’s brows furrowed in confusion.

“What. Did. You. Do?” Jensen repeated through gritted teeth.

“N-nothing,” Ed stammered, scared at the feral look on Jensen’s face. 

Chris could feel the building rage radiating off Jensen and the fury boiling his own blood. He studied Ed carefully and then he saw it. Ed’s eyes flickered for a fraction of a second to Tom. Chris looked Ed over, the cast on his right arm, the purplish green bruise along his jaw, the remaining traces of the black eyes from his broken nose. Realization flowed over him. _Son…of…a…bitch_. He and Steve were more right then they knew. He jumped to his feet, the stool he’d been sitting on toppling over at the abrupt movement. “You motherfucker,” he hissed. “You started that fight on purpose.” The pieces were clicking into place. “Started it so I would leave Jared alone that night.” He moved closer to the young man whose eyes grew wider with fear at each sentence. “You’d been coming in here for weeks, Jared said so himself. You were watching him, taking notes. You knew that Jared would tell me to go if his friends were in danger.”

Jensen looked from Chris’s epiphany-awed, ire-riddled face to Ed’s frightened, pale one. There was no question that Chris was right, the answer written plainly in the sweat trails that were developing under Ed’s hairline. Jensen’s mind went blank, a veil of red clouding his thoughts, and he lunged off his stool at the scared man. Before he could touch him, Ed was yanked away, the space he’d occupied now empty. 

Surprise paralyzed Jensen for a minute, growls and yelps of pain finally reviving him. He glanced down to see Ed sprawled on his back, Steve’s thick, muscled legs straddling his chest and knees pinning his upper arms. Punches rained down over Ed’s face and head in a blur, Steve’s normally jovial voice menacing as it maintained a constant stream of insults and curses. 

“You asshole!” Steve snarled, spittle landing on Ed’s face. “You set this all up?! Do you realize what you’ve done? How could you? You sent Jared and those boys back to that abusive motherfucker!” The words were hard to distinguish over the meaty thuds of fists hitting flesh and Ed’s whimpers.

Chris and Jensen stood shocked as Ed suffered Steve’s wrath. Finally, Joseph’s voice broke their impressed stares, his eyes wide staring at the scene from around the bulky shield of Tom.

“He’s gonna kill him!”

They each hooked an arm under Steve’s armpits, bobbing to avoid moving arms, and dragged Steve back away from the supine man. They manhandled him onto a bar stool, leaving grounding hands on his shaking shoulders.  Jensen glanced at the patrons as Chris murmured soft words in Steve’s ear, soothing his partner’s blood lust. 

Ed wiped a hand across his mouth, a streak of red coating his fingers when he pulled them away. “Yes, I set it up. It was my plan! I knew that fucking oaf would send Chris down here – too damn self-sacrificing for his own good – and I was right,” he sneered. “He’s too weak for you, Jensen. You deserve someone better, stronger. Someone like me!”

“You think Jared’s weak because he puts his friends first?!” Tom’s roar silenced what little noise there still was in the bar. He loomed over the downed man, fist clenching and unclenching, with Joseph’s restraining hand on his arm.

“Where did it get him? Huh?” Ed’s voice was strong, but Jensen could see the fear in his eyes, more than likely remembering being on the receiving end of Tom’s anger before. Ed’s gaze landed back on Jensen. “I hope that Timothy fucks him up good. You know he was so angry, I bet he beat him that very night. And there’s not a damned thing you can do about it!” Ed laughed darkly. “You might not want me, but I made sure you can’t have him either.”

Jensen’s fist closed, his jaw clamped tight, breathing hard and heavy. “You son of a bitch!” He lunged forward, probation be damned, only to be stopped by Chris, the broad shouldered man’s face a warning. 

“He’s just trying to bait you,” Chris mumbled.

Jensen’s chest heaved as he tried to control his breathing. Looking around, he noticed the locals watching in interested silence, quiet murmurs confirming small town gossip falling from their lips. Just because Wowakan was a small town didn’t mean the residents were naïve, most had at least a notion of what was happening with Jared. The sneering looks, the townsfolk threw toward Ed made it clear they felt justice had been served for any part he might have played in Jared’s situation. There were a couple of unfamiliar faces, cellphones pressed to their ears, and Jensen heaved a sigh, knowing exactly who they were calling.

“We’re gonna have company in less than five,” he muttered to Chris, eyes volleying to the good Samaritans.

“Shit,” Chris groaned, eyes closing and head shaking.

“What?” Steve asked numbly, staring at the blood on his knuckles with a frown.

“Well,” Chris began, “in about four minutes Welling and Rosenbaum are going to be here and I have a feeling this little prick,” he lightly kicked Ed’s shoe with his boot, “will press charges.”

“You’re goddamn right I will,” Ed spat bloody saliva on the floor.

“Shut up,” Jensen snapped.

“I’m…going… to jail.” Steve stated slowly, the tone held a hint of confusion but the words weren’t said as a question.

“Fraid so, babe,” Chris took Steve’s hands in his and inspected the knuckles to ensure that the blood wasn’t Steve’s. He smiled at Joseph when he nudged Chris’s arm with a wet towel.

“That’s,” Steve hissed when Chris swiped the harsh terrycloth bar rag across his swollen skin.

“It’ll be okay,” Chris cooed, wiping the last vestiges of crimson from Steve’s hands.

“That’s awesome!” Steve’s exclamation had the friends’ attention snapping to him. 

“It’s awesome that you’re going to jail?” Chris frowned at his lover in worry.

Steve simply shrugged. “It was on my bucket list. Guess I can cross that one off now.”

Chris shook his head and chuckled. “You are a strange man and I love you for it.” He leaned over and kissed Steve just as the front door opened to allow in two of Plains County’s finest.

Welling made his way through the crowd to where Jensen stood beside Chris and Steve, who were kissing, Steve’s knuckles red and swollen, over a badly beaten Ed Westwick. 

“This is starting to become a habit,” Welling grumbled, unclipping his handcuff from his belt, knowing somebody was going to be leaving in them. He’d heard the rumors circulating through their community and he was getting really tired of arresting good people, his friends, when there were others out there that deserved it so much more.

*****

“So, did Steve enjoy the amenities at the Plains County Jail?” Jensen asked as he and Chris made their way from the Sheriff’s Office to Sam’s diner. He’d come in to give his statement on the fight the night before and had decided to go with Chris, the acting Deputy Sheriff, to lunch.

“Damned idiots,” Chris growled, rolling his eyes. “Tom and Mike didn’t even lock him up. They all sat around for the rest of the night and played poker.”

“He ever say why he did it? I’ve never seen Steve lose it like that before.” Jensen moved to the outside of the sidewalk, smiling as they passed Mrs. Upton pushing little Mary Beth in her stroller.

“He said you couldn’t help Jared in jail and he didn’t want me at home all day bitching and moaning when I got suspended for starting a bar fight. It’s probably a good thing though. If it hadn’t been one of us, it would have been Tom and he already jeopardized his visa with the first fight. He took one for the team. Of course it wasn’t much of a sacrifice – more like boys’ night out than hardened time,” Chris grumbled. 

Jensen laughed, pulling the door to the diner open, the tinkling bell announcing their arrival. “If he likes jail so much he can do my time if my case goes south,” he said over his shoulder, walking into the warm diner.

“Papa Jensen!” 

Jensen stumbled as two solid bodies ran into his legs, small arms circling his thighs as rounded cheeks pressed against his hips. Stunned, his hands automatically moved to cup the base of the twins’ heads, the dull pain in his heart that had become his constant companion flared at the familiarity. Gently, he pushed the boys away and knelt before them. Tears glistened on his lashes as he looked over their cherubic faces. He’d missed them so much. 

“Boys,” he breathed, pulling them to his chest and hugging them tightly. Wet, sloppy kisses were pressed into the skin of his cheeks and neck and he felt the material of his shirt dampen. “Sshh,” he soothed, “don’t cry.” He dropped kisses to their heads and when they pulled back to look at him, he thumbed away the tears beneath their eyes and wiped their noses on the sleeve of his shirt. “There are my boys,” he tried to smile, but knew it was wobbly at best.

“Where’s your Daddy?” He asked, eyes scanning the restaurant. They lighted on Jared, standing at a table near the back, blanched fingers steepled against the formica top as if the bracing was the only thing keeping him upright. Petting a hand over each child’s head, he gave them a comforting look. “Why don’t you two go with Uncle Chris and see what kind of pie Ms. Ferris has today?”

The boys tightened their grips, but he patted them reassuringly and they reluctantly let go. They took Chris’s hands and let themselves be led to the rotating pie case. Chris shot Jensen a worried look over his shoulder.

Jensen walked over to Jared, eyes cataloguing the changes that a mere two weeks had wrought on the younger man. Jared’s eyes were sunken and underlined by dark smudges, his skin pale and wan. Jensen could see the weight he’d lost in just the short time and his gaze dropped to the half-eaten side salad on the table. Jared looked tired – exhausted really – and defeated. The only saving grace was Jensen couldn’t see any bruises on the visible patches of skin, but he knew all too well the sins that clothing could hide.

“Jare,” he said softly, wanting desperately to reach out and touch. 

“Deputy,” the name came out breathy and Jared swallowed hard, his throat clicking with the motion. “We have to go.”

“Don’t, please,” Jensen put his hand out, stopping short of grabbing Jared’s wrist.

“I can’t,” Jared whispered, voice breaking around a controlled sob. “He’ll…”

“Tell me how to help you,” Jensen pleaded. “Did he threaten the kids again? Jared, we can protect them. He’ll never hurt them again, I promise.” This time Jensen did reach out, his fingers wrapping lightly around Jared’s forearm.

“No, _we_ can’t,” Jared’s eyes fell to the meager remains of his lunch.

“Jared,” Jensen’s voice became persuasive, “you’re putting the boys in danger by staying there. How could you let him back into their lives after he tried to hit Benji? What if next time you can’t stop him? What if you’re not there to shield them from the blows?” His anger resurfaced at Jared’s dismissing head shake. “If he hurts them, it’ll be your fault. Guilty by complicity.”

Jared gasped and Jensen wished he could take back his words. They’d tumbled out of his mouth, anger and helplessness at the situation forcing him to say things he’d only thought during the dark days of his drunkenness. Tears pooled in Jared’s eyes and Jensen wondered if he’d just broken the only part of Jared left – the devotedly protective parent who was willing to sacrifice everything for his children. 

As if sensing their Daddy’s distress, Teddy and Benji came running over and wrapped their arms around Jared’s waist. Jared smoothed a comforting hand down the kids’ backs. Jensen didn’t miss the slight clenching of Jared’s jaw or the way his abdominal muscles shifted, tensing to guard vulnerable injuries. Clothing did hide a multitude of sins. Jensen dimly registered the bell heralding another customer, his heart, thudding a raging staccato in his chest at the knowledge that Timothy was already hurting Jared again, masked everything.

“Jared?” 

Jensen shuddered at that honeyed horseshit drawl he’d know anywhere. Jared blinked away his tears and swallowed, fixing a smile on his face so plastic it should have been trademarked by Mattel. Dry scrubbing a hand down his face, Jensen gave Timothy a tight smile when he appeared at Jared’s side. 

Jared let out a shaky breath and turned to the new arrival, his smile faltering slightly before he could firm it up. “T-Timothy, I thought you had meetings all day?”

“Obviously,” he sneered, anger creeping into his voice, as he eyed Jensen. “Apparently all those years on the police force didn’t teach you how to read a restraining order. 

“It’s a public place,” Jensen reminded the man. “I didn’t know Jared was going to be here.”

“And yet,” Timothy reached down and grabbed Jared’s hand, “you didn’t leave when you realized he was.”

Jensen noticed Jared wince as Timothy squeezed his hand, knowing that the older man was crushing Jared’s fingers in his grip. “That was a mistake,” Jensen admitted. “I’m leaving. I’m sorry to have bothered you, Jared.” He looked up into the eyes that he loved so much and thought he actually saw Jared’s heart break. 

“Did Jared tell you the news?” Timothy’s expression was vindictive and the twins clutched at Jared’s waist harder.

“What news?”

“We’re getting married.” Timothy’s smile was cold. Jared let out a tiny whimper at the statement, his eyes swirling with so much despair and pain that Jensen knew it was true. That was when he noticed the thumb of the hand crushing Jared’s was rubbing over a large, ornately intricate ring on Jared’s left ring finger. The band was gold and the diamonds chunky, meant to be seen and envied. Timothy had to have picked it out because anyone who knew Jared could see immediately that Jared had had no input in its purchase. Jared preferred classy to ostentatious and Jensen’s heart lurched at the thought of the velvet box sitting on his dresser.

Jensen’s breath came short and fast, heartache following fast on the heels of anger stealing the air from his lungs. “How badly did you have to beat him to get him to say yes?”

Timothy’s face went murderous, violent thoughts contorting his features into a cruel mask. Eyes like flint chips, he leaned forward into Jensen’s space. “I don’t _need_ to lift a hand to control what’s mine,” Timothy said lowly. “It’s all about knowing the right _motivation_ ,” his gaze flicked from Jensen to Chris, standing a few feet away, then out the large window at the front of the diner to the ice cream parlor across the street, “to make someone love you.”

Jensen reared back slightly, staring at Timothy in understanding. “You sick, twisted bastard. It’s not love if you have to force them to stay,” Jensen shot back, voice rising. His body tensed, itching to hurt, to punch Timothy’s smug face, to scream and rail that he knew Jared better, loved him more, but, as the anger clouded his mind, Jared made a small noise in the back of his throat. Jensen glanced down to see Jared trying to tug his hand free of Timothy’s bruising grip and the rage-filled fog cleared. Nausea rolled through his stomach at the thought that this little encounter would cost Jared later. He took a few steps back, hands raised. “I’m leaving. Just don’t hurt him.”

He started to turn when shouts of “Papa!” rent the air and he looked back in time to catch the twins as they launched themselves at him. He knelt down and gathered them in a fierce hug, resting his forehead on their shoulders. “I know you’re scared,” he whispered, the words for their ears only. “So am I, but you’ve got to be strong for your Daddy. He needs you.” He kissed their tear-stained cheeks, one palm on each twin’s other cheek. “I promise, I _promise_ , I’m going to get y’all out. I love you.” His hands slid to the back of their heads and pulled their faces into the crooks of his neck, eyes fluttering shut at the whispered declarations of love in childish voices that were almost his undoing.

“Theodore! Benjamin!”

Both boys startled at the bark of their names, their small bodies stiffening. Jensen kissed their heads again and released them. He watched as they slowly made their way back to their parents, Timothy snagging the sleeves of their sweatshirts to yank them closer. Jensen was on his feet, the twins’ surprised squeaks of fear unconsciously forcing his body into action. A strong hand grabbed his bicep, keeping him away and he turned to glare at Chris.

“It will only make it worse on Jared,” Chris murmured. “Just walk away now.”

Jensen looked back at Jared, holding his silently sobbing children close. Jared’s chin quaked in the attempt to keep his tears at bay and his eyes pleaded with Jensen to listen to Chris. Jensen nodded and stepped backward, trying to keep Jared and the boys in his sight as long as possible. He could feel the eyes of the other patrons, forgotten witnesses to the altercation, on him and he fought the urge to yell at them to mind their own goddamn business. As Chris dragged him through the door, the bell merrily chiming their exit, he saw a man standing next to the entry. He was unfamiliar, tall and handsome in designer clothes, but his eyes seemed to be telling Jensen something he couldn’t understand. Before Jensen could figure it out, the door shut and Chris manhandled him down the sidewalk.

 

* * *

 

Jensen sat on the couch, nursing a glass of sweet tea and staring at the Nuggets on television losing spectacularly to some team Jensen didn’t give a shit about. It had taken borrowing his mother’s steam cleaner and half a bottle of Febreeze to get the smell of body odor and stale alcohol out of the fabric, but he’d managed to salvage the couch. There was a knock at the door and he debated heavily not getting up, but he knew the chances of that convincing whoever it was to go away were slim. Sighing, he set his glass down on a magazine and made his way to the door. He opened it to find the stranger from the diner standing on his porch looking slightly nervous.

“Can I help you?” Jensen kept his hand on the door, prepared to shut it.

“No, but I think I can help you,” the man said, smiling sheepishly. “I have some information you might find useful.”

Jensen sized the man up for a slow minute, reveling in the squirm his assessing gaze caused. He pushed the door open further and motioned for the man to come in. “Have a seat,” he gestured to the arm chair. “Can I get you something to drink? All I have is sweet tea.”

“No, thank you,” the man answered, politely, placing a manila folder on the coffee table.

Jensen sat on the couch, close to the end table where a gun was safely tucked in the drawer.  “Who are you?”

“My name is Matt Cohen. I’m Timothy Olyphant’s personal assistant.” The man rubbed his hands down his thighs, smoothing the fabric of his expensive looking pants.

Jensen quirked an eyebrow, knowingly. “Personal assistant?”

A slight blush spread over the Matt’s cheeks. “Pretty much exactly what you are thinking.”

“You said you had information for me. What kind of information?”

“About your current legal issues in Chicago.”

Jensen’s eyes narrowed in suspicion. “What would you know about my legal issues?”

“Honestly? More than I care to admit.” Matt leaned forward and picked up the folder. “Give this to your attorney,” he handed it to Jensen, “there should be enough in there for him to clear you of your charges and implicate some highly respected and easily corrupted judges.”

Jensen opened the folder and leafed through the pages. He looked up at the young man with surprised eyes. “Where did you get all this?”

“Let’s just say that Timothy doesn’t do anything for himself and I keep meticulous records,” Matt smiled self-deprecatingly. 

Green eyes scrutinized the man on the couch while Jensen thought quietly. “Why?”

“Why what?” Matt asked confusedly.

“I can only assume that Timothy pays you well for your…services. You gotta know by giving me this,” Jensen raised the folder for emphasis, “you’re sacrificing your cash cow, possibly your freedom.”

Matt took a deep breath and stared down at his hands folded in his lap. “I’ve known since the beginning that Timothy didn’t hide the nature of our…arrangement from Jared. Timothy enjoyed humiliating Jared over it. I – I thought,” he licked his lips and swallowed, head bowing. “I thought Jared deserved it.”

At Jensen’s indignant noise, Matt shook his head. “I’ve met a lot of people since I started working for Timothy. It's not uncommon for men like him to take lovers. Hell, some of them have two or three. I’ve noticed that their wives are more than willing to turn a blind eye so long as their credit cards keep working and their husbands don’t interfere with their own affairs.”

“And you thought Jared was like those desperate, gold-digging housewives?” 

“I think I wanted to believe that,” Matt shrugged. “If I did then what I was doing wasn’t so bad. I knew that Jared didn’t love Timothy, that there was some ulterior motive for him staying. So in my mind, no harm, no foul. I even went so far as to convince myself that Jared was sleeping with that friend of his, Chad what’s-his-name. But deep down…” Matt trailed off, looking out the front window. “Despite what everyone says or what Hollywood would lead you to believe, being the other man is not easy. Especially when the person you’re doing it to is Jared. You know, he was always kind to me. He never looked at me like some of the wives did their husband’s secretaries.” He continued looking out at the snow-covered yard.

“Still doesn’t explain your sudden change of heart,” Jensen prompted when Matt was quiet for a few minutes, tapping the folder against his thigh.

“My job often requires me to turn a blind eye or a deaf ear, but I can assure you that my vision and hearing are perfect. I was in the diner today and I didn’t miss anything. It was the first time in four years, I realized our affair wasn’t the only way Timothy was hurting Jared.” He lifted sad eyes to Jensen. “I swear, I didn’t know. I just want to make it right.”

Jensen nodded his head, not sure what else to say and finally settled on, “Thanks for this.” He smoothed a hand over the folder.

Matt snorted, “God, it was the least I could do.” He looked at his watch and stood. “I should be getting back to the hotel before Timothy gets back and realizes I’m not there. Make sure your lawyer gets that file.”

“Where’s Timothy now?” Jensen set the folder down on the end table and stood to walk the other man out.

“In Carter, having a few drinks with the contractor he’s had remodeling the house.”

“Remodeling the house?” Jensen repeated. “What house?”

“Jared’s,” Matt replied with a frown. “It didn’t live up to his discerning tastes,” he elaborated with a sneer. “He’s had the entire place practically taken down to the studs and rebuilt the way he wants it. Personally, I think it was much better the way Jared had it.”

Jensen’s jaw tightened. All the love and devotion that Jared – hell, the whole town – had put into making the dilapidated farmhouse a home and Timothy had destroyed it all. Jensen swore he was going get his family back and then fix everything that bastard had broken. He ushered Matt to the door without another word.

On the porch, Matt turned back. “Tell Jared,” he sighed. “Tell him, I’m sorry.”

“I think you need to tell him that yourself,” Jensen said not unkindly.

Matt nodded and made his way to the shiny Mercedes looking conspicuously out-of-place next to Jensen’s dust-covered Impala.

Jensen watched as the taillights disappeared down his dirt driveway before he snatched his keys and hat from the table beside the door.

 

* * *

 

He pulled up the long driveway, the tires of the Impala easily navigating the washed-out ruts they’d never gotten around to filling with gravel. He stopped next to a new Cadillac Escalade, the pearlesque cream paint job throwing off a rainbow of opalescent shimmers in the waning sunset. He guessed Jared’s well-loved Silverado didn’t fit in with Timothy’s style any better than the country-cozy décor of Jared’s house. The windows were dark save the boys’ bedroom upstairs and Jensen quickly scaled the front steps, knocking loudly on the black front door that he and Jared had lovingly painted red a few months back. He waited impatiently, knocking again and ringing the bell, noticing that the porch swing had been replaced with a set of black, plastic, egg-shaped chairs with black and white patterned cushions separated by a black and glass oval table. 

The deadbolt disengaged and the door swung open to reveal Jared, eyes red-rimmed and puffy. “Deputy? What are you doing here?” Jared’s gaze flung over Jensen’s shoulder and darted around the front yard.

“We need to talk,” Jensen pulled his hat from his head, holding the brim in his hands.

“That isn’t a good idea. Timothy could be home any minute.” Jared’s eyes were wide and frightened, pleading with Jensen to leave. 

“We need to talk,” Jensen repeated, enunciating slowly.

Jared bit his lip deliberating then nodded. “Yeah, we do.” He stepped back and held the door open for Jensen to enter.

Jensen felt like he’d walked into an alternate reality. The house was familiar by the layout but the interior was completely different. Gone were the wood tables that Jared had painstakingly refinished, glass and chrome mockeries standing in their place, and Jensen could see that the distressed, brown leather couch in the living room was now a white, fabric monstrosity that was more for show than use. A house with two boys – especially Jared’s boys – should never contain something that stainable. He leaned forward and saw that the entertainment center Austin had given Jared was now a black lacquer behemoth that looked straight from the pages of an IKEA catalogue. He tossed his hat down on the iron table by the door to free his hands and frowned at the white, plush rug now spanning the foyer.

Jared shifted nervously and Jensen brought his focus back to the reason for his visit. Jared’s bangs were hanging low, shielding his face from Jensen, but Jensen saw the tear fall to the ground. It broke Jensen’s heart to see Jared like this, like he was when he first arrived at Wowakan – scared and unsure. 

“Jensen…” Jared began, eyes firmly fixed on his feet.

“I’m sorry for what I said today,” Jensen interrupted, needing to get this off his chest. “I know that you aren’t here because you want to be and that you’d never put the boys in danger without a good reason.” Jared tried to say something, but Jensen cut him off with a staying hand. “He did more than threaten the kids this time, didn’t he?” Jared’s small sniffle was enough of an answer.  “You don’t have to worry about that anymore.”

Jared shook his head. “I won’t let him hurt the people I love. He’ll do it, Jensen. I know he will.”

“You don’t understand,” Jensen pleaded. “Timothy won’t be a problem much longer.”

Jared’s shaking head stilled and Jensen knew that at least the younger man was listening.

“Jared, Matt Cohen came to see me today,” Jared’s eyes shot up in surprise. “He brought me a bunch of evidence that should get the case against me thrown out and have Timothy behind bars for a good long time.”

“W – Why would he do that?” Jared muttered.

“He really needs to tell you that himself, but, basically, he’s trying to make amends. He’s looking for redemption.” Jensen stepped closer to Jared, needing to feel him, and was relieved when Jared didn’t back away.

“Really?” Jared’s voice sounded awed, hopeful.

“Yeah,” Jensen nodded, he cupped Jared’s cheek. “I want you to go upstairs and pack your and the twins’ things. I’m getting you out of here.” He’d made the decision the moment Matt had given him the folder. He now had the evidence he needed to break Timothy’s hold on Jared and put his god-forsaken ass away. 

Jared’s eyes were so hopeful, but still wary like he was afraid this was a joke or would be taken from him. Jensen leaned forward, his lips seeking and finding Jared’s. He poured everything into the kiss, his love, his fear and his reassurance. Jared gasped and then returned the exchange, fingers gripping the back of Jensen’s shirt desperately. Jensen lost track of time before he reluctantly pulled away, thumb rubbing over Jared’s cheekbone.

“There’s something I need to tell you,” Jared whispered, tears falling freely as he leaned into the comfort of Jensen’s touch.

“We’ll talk later. Hurry, Jared,” Jensen urged, he placed a chaste kiss on Jared’s lips before releasing him. “I don’t want to take the chance of Timothy coming home.”  He stepped back.

“Too late.” 

Jensen spun around, body shielding Jared, to see Timothy in the doorway, a gun in one hand and his cellphone in the other. Jensen inwardly cursed himself. He’d been too wrapped up in talking and kissing Jared to listen for Timothy’s car.

As if seeing what Jensen was thinking, Timothy smiled coldly. “Gotta love the art of German engineering. So much quieter than that piece of shit Detroit relic you love so much.”

“Timothy, don’t,” Jared begged, trying to move around Jensen. 

“Stay back, Jared,” Jensen snarled, shifting until the man was behind him again. Jensen’s eyes never left the gun in Timothy’s hand, seeing the sure grip and steady stance.

“Yes, Jared,” Timothy sneered. “Wait your turn.”

“Over my dead body,” Jensen growled, fist clenching as his brain reprimanded him for leaving the house without some kind of weapon.

“That can be arranged,” Timothy smirked, leveling the gun at Jensen’s chest.

“No,” Jared shouted, pushing Jensen aside to stand between the two men. “Timothy, don’t. You promised me if I stayed you wouldn’t hurt him.”

“You weren’t going to stay, were you?” Timothy kept the gun pointed at Jensen. “You were going to leave with him. That negates our agreement.”

“I never said I was going with him,” Jared corrected. 

Jensen looked at Jared, mind flinging back to the conversation. He’d told Jared to pack and then they’d kissed, but all Jared had said was he needed to tell Jensen something. Was Jared seriously not planning to go with him? “Jared, no,” he croaked.

“I never _said_ I was leaving,” Jared stopped him from saying more, his eyes communicating what he really meant.

The tension in Jensen’s chest lessened. Jared was willing to leave, he’d just never gotten around to verbally agreeing, believing that whatever he had to say was more important. Jensen saw the pleas for forgiveness in Jared’s eyes and knew that Jared was about to sacrifice himself again.

Timothy seemed to be thinking over the conversation he’d heard as well. Jensen could see Timothy’s mind wildly searching for another reason to use the gun in his hand. All three men startled at the sound of sirens echoing through the evening air.

Timothy’s smile was back in place as he stepped over to the table in the hall and put the gun in the topmost drawer. “I overlooked you violating the restraining order in the diner earlier, but my patience has run out. With those lips, I’m sure some nice convict named Bubba will be happy to make you his bitch.”

Jensen sighed, he forgotten about the fucking restraining order. 

Timothy looked over at Jared, still standing between them. “Once the police have taken him away, I think you and I need to _discuss_ that kiss.” He winked at Jensen.

Growling, Jensen lunged forward, brushing past Jared before he could react, and grabbed Timothy around the throat, shoving him against the wall. “Don’t you fucking touch him!” Jensen’s fingers tightened and he reveled in the Timothy’s gasp for air, his fingers clawing at Jensen’s constricting grasp.

“Jensen, stop!” Jared’s voice was loud and frightened. “Please, stop!”

“Papa Jensen?”

Jensen looked at the landing at the top of the stairs at the boys, their eyes glassy and clouded with fear. He released Timothy, letting the man slide to the floor, coughing and holding his neck. “I’m sorry,” he said to the twins then looked at Jared and repeated it. Never in all this did he mean to scare them.

The sirens outside were blaring and red and blue alternating lights shone through the window and reflected off the walls. The front door crashed open and Sheriff Jones rushed in, followed quickly by Welling and Rosenbaum. Timothy was on the floor screaming about restraining orders and assault, but Jensen didn’t pay him any attention. His focus was volleying between Jared and the twins, gaze a mixture of apology and love. He barely felt the bite of cold metal around his wrists or the guiding tugs as he was led to the door. He didn’t break eye contact with the ones he loved until the front door shut him away from them.


	18. Chapter 18

* * *

Jared woke up on the floor in the bedroom, knowing that’s where he was by the smell of Timothy’s Obsession that had permeated into every soft surface in the room, but not understanding how he got there.  The last thing he remembered was being downstairs, but his mind was only providing him jumbled, disconnected images and his head hurt too much to attempt to organize them into something coherent.

He tried to open his left eye, but couldn’t no matter how hard he tried, the lid heavy and the lashes matted together with something sticky. His right eye was slitted and hazy, but afforded him an up close and personal view of the almond nap of the new carpet Timothy had installed throughout most of the house, the lingering smell of burnt nylon and industrial glue from its placement strong this close to the source.  There was a gurgling sound and he felt a percolating tickle in the back of his throat, like bubbles rising and popping against his trachea, triggering his cough reflex. Fire consumed his body with each explosive exhale, white hot supernovas of pain that forced his breath to stutter and fueled another round of coughing – a loop that finally resolved itself when he was reduced to gasping sobs. His lips were wet, mouth flooded with the taste of old coins and nose filled with the smell of rusty water.

A thought made it through the chaos in his mind and the pain in his body, a shining beacon that guided him from the dark and spurred him toward action. He needed to call for help; there was too much at stake to lay here in defeat. Forcing his arms to lift him up, he cried out and collapsed when lightning shot up from wrists to elbows, retching slightly when the pain settled in his stomach. He lifted his head, thoughts still fuzzy in the fogginess of a concussion, and scanned the cream expanse, polka-dotted in red, searching for his jeans. They were crumpled on the floor, dismissed and discarded once their purpose was fulfilled, much like their owner. He reached out, nausea deepening in proportion to the pain in his arm as he snagged the belt-loop and dragged them closer. Gently smoothing his hand over the pockets, he wondered which one held his cell phone before remembering he gave that lifeline to save others. Panted breaths from the exertion of pulling the denim closer forced another cough from his chest.

Tearing pain ripped through his body from somewhere deep inside, a vague no-man’s land in his torso, blanking his mind of the bright spots of anguish elsewhere. His knees tried to involuntarily curl inward, baser instincts kicking in to alleviate the pain by lessening the stretch on abdominal muscles, but the agony from the movement of his lower extremities paralyzed his frame – the promise of pain deterring him from going forward, the reality of it keeping him from going back. Harsh, garbled breaths filled the room, too fast and too shallow even to his own ears, and dark spots danced in front of his blurry right eye. He thought he heard his name being called, but it was hard to tell over the sound of boiling water in his throat. The dark spots merged, clumped together and blocked out large portions of his vision until they covered the entire field in soothing darkness. 

****

 [ 15 hours earlier ]

_Who's lonely now? Which one of us is suffering? Who's in his cups? Which one of us recovering?_

Jared groaned as his radio alarm went off, disrupting the little bit of peaceful sleep he’d gotten all night. Tenderly, he rolled over, testing his stomach to see how this day was going to turn out. Benji had caught a stomach bug on his last day of school before Timothy decided the twins didn’t need institutionalized education anymore and when Jared had finally gotten him over the worst of it, Benji promptly gave it to Teddy who then passed it lovingly on to Jared. The boys had quickly rebounded; the illness running its course in a few Pedia-lyte filled days, but Jared hadn’t been able to shake it. Of course, the facts that he barely slept, rarely ate and was so stressed his hair was falling out might have been major contributing factors in its tenacity. 

_The wrong man lies beside you And waits for you to wake And all because I lacked conviction, The judgment's my mistake_

His stomach roiled dangerously and he took a few controlled breaths, hoping the nausea would abate. He winced, arms curling around his middle as his knees pulled up.

_Who's breathless now? Who only hyperventilates? Who'd die for you? Who's dying inside anyway?_

 “You puke in that bed and I swear I’ll make you lick it up.”

Jared slowly shifted to a sitting position, one hand propping him up against the mattress, the other cupping his cramping stomach. He closed his eyes and swallowed down the threat of rising bile.

“You need to go see the doctor.” Jared looked up, squinting at the sight of Timothy silhouetted in the bathroom doorway, confused by the concern those words implied. “You’d better not give that shit to me. Bad enough you let those rugrats give it to you.”

Jared rubbed his aching head and licked his dry lips. “I’ll make an appointment today.”

“Good,” Timothy came out of the bathroom, fingers nimbly knotting his tie with practiced ease. “I have meetings all day and then I’m going out tonight with Tony for drinks. If you’re still spewing like a geyser tonight, I expect you to sleep on the couch.”

“Yes, Timothy,” he answered by rote. Lifting up, he grimaced as the muscles across his ribs pulled, a small gasp leaving his lips before he could bite it off. Timothy gave him a withering look. 

_If I'm again beside your body, don't tell me where it's been It's cruel, unusual punishment to kiss fingerprinted skin_.

He managed to stand, swaying dangerously on his feet, as a wave of dizziness crashed over him. He braced himself on the nightstand and blinked until his vision cleared. It really was time he saw Dr. Morgan. 

_It's my mistake_

“And turn that emo shit off,” Timothy barked, leaving the room in a cologne-scented flourish. The fragrance hung heavy in air, the smell assaulting Jared’s senses and proving too much for his already agitated stomach. He dashed to the bathroom, hoping that the twins had learned by now to stay in their room until Timothy left. 

 

* * *

 

Jared went into the boys’ room, face freshly washed and teeth brushed after his last bout with his illness, to wake them. They were both still sound asleep, Teddy with the covers pulled high so only the top of head was visible, his bear lost to the floor during the night, and Benji the complete opposite with the covers kicked to the floor in a heap and Deputy Bear clutched tightly to his chest. Jared’s heart ached at the sight of his sons. It had been a rough two weeks for their family. Between Timothy’s sudden reappearance in their lives, losing Jensen and the stomach flu from hell, they’d taken a severe beating. 

Jared would blame himself for Timothy being back in their lives until his dying day. He’d been frozen by shock the night he’d opened the door expecting Chris and finding Timothy on the front porch. For a few precious seconds, he’d convinced himself that he was still on the couch and dreaming. It wasn’t long, but enough for Timothy to shoulder his way into the house and get a bruising grip around Jared’s throat. The threats had come fast and furious – he’d hurt them, kill them if necessary; the twins, Jensen, Karen and Alex, Austin, Dakota, Chris and Steve. Jared protested at first, the fingers threatening his windpipe tightening at the disobedience, saying Timothy couldn’t just kill someone without facing consequences. This wasn’t Atlanta, Timothy didn’t have half the judicial system in his back pocket and his name and money meant little to the inhabitants of Wowakan. Timothy had smiled at Jared’s naivety and reminded him that bad things happened every day – gas leaks in houses that silently killed whole families, mistaken identity that had friends being shot as trespassers, farm accidents, muggings, hate crimes – the world was a dangerous place. If Jared tried to leave or tried to get help, it would be open season on anybody that Jared cared for, loved, and Timothy had already planned on how to make each one look like an accident. Jared struggled to breathe around the constriction, tears streaming down his face. He had to agree. What else could he do? 

He’d sat in the living room, tears trailing down his face, when Chris and Steve had come back that night, wanting desperately to run to the door and beg them to take him and the boys away. The only thing keeping him seated was the .357 magnum Timothy had behind the door, trained on the unknowing men. He’d quietly taken his punishment that night for running, the first of many, comforted only by the fact that everybody else was safe.

He’d called Steve the next morning quitting without an explanation and nodded dutifully when Timothy explained that he was pulling the kids from Plains County Elementary. In a matter of twenty-four hours, Jared had lost everything he’d spent the last six months building. He’d willingly stepped back into his nightmare, dragging his innocent children along with him. 

He’d never know how he got from one day to the next, one minute to the next. Timothy might as well have packed up Jared’s heart and soul along with Jensen’s other belongings, they certainly weren’t Jared’s anymore and they’d never been Timothy’s. Jensen’s absence was palpable. Jared could feel it in his heart, in the air, on his skin. He moved on auto-pilot, would’ve given up, if not for the thought that the twins needed him. 

As hard as being separated from Jensen had been on Jared, it was worse on the boys. Sick and confused for the first few days, they’d cried for Jensen, whimpered for him. Jared’d held them, shushed them, telling them that Papa Jensen loved them, but had to stay away. He never said it, but he knew that they understood that Papa couldn’t come back because Father wouldn’t let him. That knowledge did nothing to squash the belief he could see in their eyes that Jensen would come riding in and save the day, save them. As the days passed without rescue, Jared saw the hero worship that both boys carried for the man wane and he couldn’t bear it. He sat them down and told them the truth. He explained that it was his fault Jensen was gone, that he’d forced their Papa away. He’d chosen to be with Timothy. Timothy was their father and they belonged with him. He hardened his heart to the cold looks that had never been directed at him before, preferring they hate him than lose faith in Jensen. He deserved it, Jensen didn’t. He locked himself in the laundry room after that conversation, allowing the sounds of the washing machine to drown out his crying.

He suffered three days of soul-crushing silence, suffocating under the quiet as his heart died a little more with every head nod or shake he received. His sons, always so affectionate, refused to touch him, refused to look at him. In trying to protect them, he lost his sons. He soldiered on – this was his penance for destroying their world and he bore his contrition without complaint. On the morning of the fourth day, he was on the floor in the kitchen, clasping his side. Timothy had been less than pleased at Jared’s request that they order pizza for dinner that night since he was still battling the flu and had showed it by hitting him with the cast iron skillet that had been on the stove. He was taking shallow, panting breaths, doing his best to work through the pain and not realizing that each exhale was a name, repeated over and over at twenty-eight times a minute, until small hands cupped his cheeks. He looked up into the Teddy’s teary green eyes, Benji’s hovering just over his brother’s left shoulder.

“We miss him too, Daddy,” Teddy whispered, leaning down to kiss Jared’s forehead like Jared was the child in this situation.

Benji moved around to kneel beside his brother and stroked a comforting hand down Jared’s cheek, the motion causing tears to fall unrestrained. “It’s not your fault. We’re sorry.” Benji looked so much older than his six years, the weight of a hard world pressing down on his small shoulders, as he graced Jared with absolution.

Heedless of his sore ribs, he pulled his sons to him and the three of them cried, in mourning for the loved one they’d lost. The twins hadn’t mentioned Jensen again, but Jared had caught them staring out the breakfast room window, wistfully looking in the direction their heart now lived.

Jared had noticed that the twins’ attitude toward their Father had drastically changed during those months of separation. They no longer cowered from Timothy, challenging him in ways they’d never dared before. Living with Jensen, being loved by him, had nurtured a self-confidence in both boys that Timothy had spent the first six years of their life trying to suppress and that new independent nature bristled under Timothy’s domineering rule. They stopped short of outright contempt, but their hatred was easily discernible. Neither child knew what Jared had endured over their perceived insubordination and, as far as he was concerned, they never would.  

Shaking his head, Jared moved into the boys’ room, saddened at the previously chaotic area’s pristine appearance. Timothy was intolerant of any type of mess and the boys now spent so much time ensuring their room was spotless so Father would be happy that they barely had time to play. He gently ruffled small heads, smiling at the grumpy responses he got to the rousing. He opened the blinds, allowing in the inviting sunshine, and noticed the corner of a piece of paper sticking out of the top drawer of their shared nightstand. Tugging it free, it was a picture he’d taken of the boys and Jensen on New Year’s Eve. Jensen was in the middle of the couch, a twin on each side, all three asleep, cuddled close like puppies as the ball dropped on the TV in the background. Jared traced his finger over Jensen’s face and smiled. Timothy had predictably purged the house of all reminders of Jensen, but had taken special exception to the pictures. Kodak moments had been sacrificed to a hastily built fire, dancing flames turning happy memories to ash. Somehow his resourceful sons had saved this one from the pyre. The twins watched him carefully with sleepy eyes as he slid the picture back into the drawer and shut it. He leaned over and kissed both of their heads.

“Our little secret,” he whispered.

 

* * *

 

Jared walked into the kitchen, checking the clock over the sink as he passed by and frowning at the atrocious frosted glass and chrome time piece. He sighed. Not only had Timothy removed all traces that Jensen had ever lived here, he seemed bent on erasing Jared as well. The house had undergone a complete renovation, the rustic, country style Jared adored razed and replaced with a sleek, modern touch that Timothy preferred. Jared hated it. He’d expected to be bustled back to Atlanta, sure that Timothy would want as many states as possible between Jared and Jensen, but instead was surprised when Timothy declared they’d be staying in Wowakan. It was only when the new mailbox, _Olyphant_ on the side in bold letters, was placed at the side of the road – a road that Jensen traveled every day on his way home - that Jared realized Timothy’s true reason for staying in Colorado. He wanted to taunt Jensen with the knowledge that Timothy had won. Each time Jensen left his house, he would have a reminder in three inch block letters that Timothy had taken Jared from him.

He had about an hour before his doctor’s appointment and his stomach had finally settled down enough that he felt hungry. He opened the refrigerator and twisted his mouth in thought as he surveyed the contents. He turned his nose up at the chicken and brown rice left over from last night’s dinner and the roasted red pepper hummus. He sniffed a container of cut up pineapple, jerking his head back at the unappealing smell of the ripe fruit and closing it quickly. He shifted a few things around, grabbing a couple of the more appetizing options and setting them on the counter.

He leaned over the sink, biting into a dill pickle spear, and watched the twins playing in the backyard. He groaned at the vinegary taste as it burst across his taste buds, the juice running over his fingers to drip into the basin. He closed his eyes, rolling the flavor around in his mouth. It had been so long since he’d really wanted anything to eat and right now that pickle was the best tasting thing he’d ever had, the bitter tang scratching an itch he didn’t even know existed. His free hand dug into a package of sliced pepperoni that he’d snuck into the house past Timothy’s watchful, weight-managing gaze. He popped a few pieces in his mouth, sucking the spicy flavor from the thin disks before chewing the meat and swallowing. He alternated between one and the other, savoring each bite, until he felt satisfied. Sealing the package of pepperoni and tightening the lid on the pickles, he returned them to the refrigerator, gaze lighting on a jar of garlic marinated mushrooms on the top shelf. He couldn’t resist, mouth salivating in anticipation. Using a fork to stab a few of the small buttons, he nodded his head in pleasure at the intense flavor. Finishing half the jar, he replaced the mushrooms and put his fork in the dishwasher.

He wiped his hand on a paper towel and picked up the mail, leafing through the bills and credit card offers, hand pausing on an envelope near the back. He dropped the other post, now so insignificant, and held the envelope, staring at the insignia on the return address. He’d sent this off weeks ago, right after Christmas, and with everything lately he’d completely forgotten about it.

 He flipped the envelope over and slid his finger beneath the sealed flap. With a few quick jerks, he held the letter in his hand, still neatly closed in a precise tri-fold, fighting a sudden attack of nervousness. He took a deep, cleansing breath and glanced out the window to double check the boys were still deep in their imaginary play. With trembling hands and averted eyes, he unfolded the papers – three in all, stapled together in the upper left corner – and quickly forced himself to look down at the top sheet. He read the first paragraph, his knees buckling at the words, and, not quite believing, he read it again. He staggered to the breakfast table, sitting down in one of the chairs to keep from falling to the floor. He flipped through the pages, studying every detail to make sure he understood completely. He letter fell to the table and he stared at the wall opposite him, stunned.

His stomach churned and his hand flew to his midsection. He groaned, regretting the odd combination of things he’d eaten. There was a particularly violent gurgle and his hand flew up to cover his mouth.

_Oh, God. Not again!_

 

* * *

 

Jared picked at his side salad, fork pushing the crisp lettuce and ripe tomatoes around his plate, as he stared at it in disinterest. The twins were happily chatting, one sitting at each side of him, ecstatic to be out of the house for the first time since Father had come back. They’d behaved themselves in Dr. Morgan’s office so he’d decided to treat them with lunch at Sam’s. Timothy knew Jared had a doctor’s appointment today and since he’d never expressly forbade Jared from going anywhere while out, he figured it’d be okay. It didn’t hurt that Timothy said he’d be in meetings all day.

He half-listened to his sons’ conversation, catching enough to understand that they were discussing which dinosaur, a velociraptor or a T-rex, would win in a fight, but his mind was elsewhere. He heard the bell over the front door jingle, but only looked up when the animated paleolithic debate stopped on twin gasps. Before he could comprehend what was going on, the boys were out of their seats and across the diner, shouts of “Papa Jensen!” echoing through the restaurant.

Jared stood, his heart thundering in his chest. His legs went weak seeing his boys run into Jensen, the older man stumbling slightly under the attack, their small arms wrapping around his legs. Jensen dropped to his knees and pulled the twins into tight hugs, their small bodies melting against his larger frame. Bracing himself on the table to keep from toppling over, Jared stared as Jensen kissed the boys’ heads and wiped their eyes and noses. There was a smile and searching eyes then Jensen was walking toward him, Chris leading the twins off to the pie case. 

Jared gaped as Jensen approached, eyes memorizing every detail his memory hadn’t been able to conjure in the last two weeks. The exact green of Jensen’s eyes, the way his hair appeared sandy-blonde in a certain light, the curve of his bowed legs, the perfect arch of his Cupid ’s bow lips. The hundreds of little things he’d taken for granted.

“Jare,” Jensen’s voice was soft and the nickname made the ache in his heart throb painfully.

“Deputy,” Jared’s heart was beating so fast he was out of breath. He swallowed down the urge to touch, the sound of his dry throat clicking loud between them. He needed to get out before he did something that would end badly. “We have to go.”

“Don’t, please.” Jensen’s hand lifted, stopping only inches from Jared’s skin and he could feel the tingle as though he’d actually been touched.

“I can’t,” Jared whispered, trying to force the words out past the sob he felt coming. He couldn’t do this. It was a big enough risk just bringing the boys here to begin with, but if Timothy found out that Jensen was here, that Jared had talked to him, no amount of begging would save him. “He’ll…” He refused to finish that sentence, to let Jensen know exactly what was happening behind the closed doors of the Old McIntyre Farm. He was certain Jensen had a clue, but Jared didn’t need to confirm it.

“Tell me how to help you,” Jensen was pleading and Jared couldn’t bear the sound. “Did he threaten the kids again? Jared, we can protect them. He’ll never hurt them again, I promise.” Warm fingers encircled his forearm, the touch light and hesitant and Jared just wanted to feel Jensen’s arms around him. 

“No, _we_ can’t.” There was no we, only Jared. He looked down at his salad, wishing he could drown in the dressing. 

“Jared,” Jensen’s voice changed, took on the soothing tone he used when he was trying to convince you he was right, “you’re putting the boys in danger by staying there. How could you let him back into their lives after he tried to hit Benji? What if next time you can’t stop him? What if you’re not there to shield them from the blows?” Jared shook his head, not wanting to hear Jensen repeat the questions he’d asked himself so many times. Eyes downcast, he missed the flash of anger in Jensen’s eyes. “If he hurts them, it’ll be your fault. Guilty by complicity.”

Jared gasped, he couldn’t help it. Jensen’s words were like a dagger to his already broken heart and he barely kept himself upright under the pain. Suddenly, as if knowing Jared needed them, Teddy and Benji were at his side. Small arms wrapped around his waist and he bit off the groan, their embrace pressing against his still healing ribs. He reached down to smooth a hand over his sons’ heads, trying to draw comfort from the gesture. He could feel Jensen’s anger, his accusing stare adding weight to the guilt Jared constantly carried . Tears sprung to his eyes, wetting his eyelids as he realized that not only had he lost Jensen’s love, he’d lost his trust.

The bell on the door dinged again and Jared had half a second to realize it was Timothy and Matt. He quickly blinked away his tears and fixed the smile that had gotten him through six years of charity functions and dinner parties. 

“Jared?” 

He saw Jensen shudder and rub his hand over his face before he directed a hostile smile at Timothy. Hoping to diffuse the situation, Jared took a calming breath and turned to Timothy. The fury he could see in the man’s eyes had Jared’s smile faltering, but he managed to snap it back into place. “T-Timothy, I thought you had meetings all day?”

“Obviously.” Timothy’s anger was palpable and Jared knew he wasn’t coming out of this unscathed. Unconsciously he hugged the boys tighter to his sides. Sneering, Timothy eyed Jensen. “Apparently all those years on the police force didn’t teach you how to read a restraining order. 

“It’s a public place,” Jensen evened out his weight, squaring his stance. “I didn’t know Jared was going to be here.”

“And yet,” Timothy grabbed Jared’s hand in a vicious grip, the tips of his fingers reddening under the pressure. “you didn’t leave when you realized he was.”

Jensen’s eyes flicked down to Jared’s hand and Jared was afraid he’d call Timothy on the use of force. He was surprised when Jensen merely lifted his hands in surrender. “That was a mistake. I’m leaving. I’m sorry to have bothered you, Jared.” Jared looked into Jensen’s eyes and his heart shattered at the thought of having to watch Jensen walk away.

“Did Jared tell you the news?” Timothy squeezed Jared’s hand harder and Jared couldn’t help but notice the vindictive glee in the man’s eyes.

“What news?”

“We’re getting married.” Timothy stated.

Jared let out a tiny whimper at the statement, not able to hide his pain that he’d agreed to marry this bastard. Jensen looked down at his hand and Jared could see the moment he knew it wasn’t a cruel joke. Jensen’s face paled and his hurt pressed against Jared like a physical force, battering him in endless waves. 

“How badly did you have to beat him to get him to say yes?”

It was Jared’s turn to blanch, not even having to see Timothy’s face to know the murderous rage that he would find there. Timothy leaned toward Jensen and Jared worried for a minute he was going to hit Jensen. “I don’t _need_ to lift a hand to control what’s mine,” Timothy said lowly. “It’s all about knowing the right _motivation_ ,” his gaze flicked from Jensen to Chris, standing a few feet away, then out the large window at the front of the diner to the ice cream parlor across the street, “to make someone love you.”

Jensen reared back slightly, understanding dawning on his beautiful face. “You sick, twisted bastard. It’s not love if you have to force them to stay,” Jensen yelled. 

Timothy tightened his grip on Jared’s hand, the pressure enough to easily break the small, delicate bones, and Jared tried to pull his hand away. He must have made a noise because Jensen glanced down then took a few steps back, hands raised. “I’m leaving. Just don’t hurt him.”

Jensen turned around and Jared felt like he was dying. The twins shouted “Papa!” and wrenched themselves from Jared’s protective grasp. They launched themselves at Jensen who spun around in time to catch them. Jensen held them and whispered in their ears as they cried out their ‘I love yous’ into his neck. Jared could see Timothy losing what little control he still held on his temper at the sight and then his barked yell split the air. 

“Theodore! Benjamin!”

The boys startled, their spines stiffening at the authority in those words. Jensen kissed them one last time and they made their way back to Jared and Timothy. When they were in arm’s reach, Timothy grabbed their sweatshirt sleeves and yanked them closer, Jared catching them before they stumbled to the ground. Jensen’s eyes flared at the boys’ surprised yelps and he started forward again only to be stopped by Chris’ hand on his arm. Jared cradled the boys to him, their little bodies shaking with silent tears, and heard Chris murmur, “It will only make it worse on Jared. Just walk away now.”

Jared appreciated the sentiment, but he knew that there wasn’t anything that would spare his Timothy’s wrath. He gave Jensen a look that begged him to go with Chris, his chin quaking as he tried to hold back his own sobs. He needed Jensen away. Timothy would have no qualms about hurting Jensen, would probably enjoy it more than he liked hurting Jared. Jensen allowed Chris to pull him out the door, his eyes never leaving Jared’s until he was distracted by Matt at the door. Jensen’s brow furrowed as he looked at Timothy’s assistant then he was being manhandled down the sidewalk.

Jared made nonsense noises in the back of his throat, trying to soothe his distraught sons, eyes still locked at the last place he’d seen Jensen. He could hear the low voices of the other patrons, their soft words confirming suspicions about his life. His cheeks flushed at how much they’d guessed right.

“Jared.” The name came out clipped, harsh and Jared’s back straightened at the sound of it. He looked over at Timothy and flinched at the look in the other man’s eyes. “I want you to go straight home like you should have earlier. I’ll be home after I meet with Tony and I suggest you be awake and waiting for me when I get there. I think it’s time I remind you of your place, who you belong to.”

Jared shivered at the menace and the promise of violence in Timothy’s voice. He nodded, mind working through what he needed to get done before Timothy got home.

 

* * *

 

Jared sent the boys outside to play as soon as they got home. He used his time wisely, gathering everything he needed and his old backpack. The zipper was broken, refused to stay closed, and safety pin kept if from accidentally opening, but it had gotten him through four years at SCAD, he figured it would last one more night. He laid out the items on the bed and carefully stuffed them into the waiting bag. He scribbled a quick note – only six words that he hoped conveyed everything he wanted to say – and placed it on top of the other items, zipping the bag and securing it closed with the safety pin.

He took his cell phone from his pocket and deleted all but the important numbers, changing the contact names on a few so they’d be easier to recognize. He slipped the phone in the front pocket of the bag then went downstairs to call the boys inside.

 

* * *

 

He knelt on the floor in the boys’ room, his sons standing in front of him with curious eyes. The backpack was propped against his leg and he reached down for it. Swallowing, he smiled at them, trying to infuse as much of his love into the expression as he could.

“I need you both to listen to me very carefully,” he began seriously, “this is very important. Tonight, when your Father gets home I want you to stay in your room until you hear us go into our bedroom. No matter what you hear, no matter what happens you _do not_ come out of here until our door closes. Promise me?”

Twin faces looked at him warily, their chests tingling and fluttering with the innate understanding that something bad was going to happen. “But, Daddy…” Benji protested.

“Promise me?” Jared stared at them, the words hushed.

Reluctantly, the boys nodded. They flung their arms around Jared’s neck, unknown fears rabbitting their hearts in their chest. Jared hugged them, then pulled back.

“There’s more. Once you hear our door close, I want you to take this backpack,” he held up the time-abused bag, “and, as quietly as you can, sneak down the back stairs. It’s super important that you don’t make a sound, so church mice, okay?”

Tears flowed over chubby cheeks and they nodded.

“Good boys,” he praised, fighting back his own tears. “Go out the back door, don’t bother shutting it, and run. As fast as you can.”

“L-like D-Dash from the Incedbles?” Teddy stammered.

Jared gave a watery laugh and stroked his son’s face. “Just like Dash from the Incredibles. I want you to run just like Dash across the back pasture to Papa Jensen’s house. You remember the way, right?” Jared smiled at their nods, thankful that the moon was full and would give his boys enough light to see. “Go straight there, don’t stop and _do not_ turn around. Give him this bag when you get there. He’ll know what to do. Okay?”

“What a-about you?” Benji was trying to stifle his sobs, wanting to be brave for his Daddy.

Jared looked into their eyes and tried for his best reassuring smile. “Daddy has to stay here and finish up some things.”

“I don’t want to leave you,” Teddy was openly crying now as he hugged Jared, clinging to his shirt.

Jared looked up at the ceiling, the glow-in-the-dark stars Jensen had stuck up there staring back down at him as he tried to reign in his emotions. He pulled Benji into the hug and kissed the crowns of their heads. “You’re not leaving me,” he corrected, injecting a happy tone into his words, “I’m always with you.” He pulled them back so he could see their faces. “Right here,” he pointed to the center of their chests, “and here.” He touched their foreheads. “All you have to do is think of me and I’ll be there with you. Always.”

The boys exchanged a look. “Really?” Benji asked.

“Absolutely,” he nodded, a smile it hurt to make on his face. “Do you think you can do all that for me? Be my brave boys?”

“Yes, Daddy,” Teddy whispered.

“Yes, Daddy,” Benji echoed.

“My big boys.” He smoothed a hand over their heads. Sniffling, he cleared his throat. “If for any reason, there is a problem. I’ve put my cell phone in the front pocket of the backpack.” He pulled it out and showed it to the twins. “Our family is on speed dial. Start with number one and go from there.” He demonstrated how to use the speed dial and had them each practice a few times before tucking it back in the pocket.

Jared stared at his beautiful sons, able to see in that moment the wonderful men they would become and his heart ached to know. “I love you both so much,” he croaked, emotion stealing his voice, “and I’m so proud of you. Never forget that.”

A car pulled up outside and his breath shuddered in his chest. “Remember what I told you,” he leveled them with serious looks. “As soon as our door shuts, you go.”

“Yes, sir,” they chorused.

He kissed them again, face lingering to take in as much of their smell as he could to get him through what he knew he had to do, and went to answer the door.

 

* * *

 

Jared opened the door cautiously, knowing that if Timothy was so drunk he had to knock things could get ugly from the word hello. He nearly slammed the door shut again, mind learning its lesson from the last time he’d stood with the door open too long, at finding Jensen on the front porch. “Deputy? What are you doing here?” He tossed wild glances over Jensen’s shoulder, afraid he’d see Timothy’s Mercedes coming up the drive.

“We need to talk.” Jensen took his hat off and held the brim between his hands, the hat making slow revolution in anxious fingers. 

Yes, they needed to talk. Jared had so many things he wanted to tell Jensen: how sorry he was, how much he loved him, how this was the only way to keep everyone safe. He wanted to get on his knees and beg for Jensen’s forgiveness: for all the pain he’d caused, for putting the boys in danger, for leaving Jensen alone. There was so much he needed to say, just in case. Jared scanned the yard again, shivers wracking his form at the thought of Timothy coming home to Jensen on the doorstep.  Yes, they needed to talk, but it was too dangerous. “That isn’t a good idea. Timothy could be home any minute.” The imploration in his voice was clear. He needed Jensen to leave because he knew he didn’t have it in him to force him away. 

“We need to talk,” Jensen enunciated slowly, his gaze brooking no argument.

Jared bit his lip. This was such a bad idea. A little voice in the back of his head whispered that this might be his last chance to say the things he needed Jensen to hear. He looked down the drive again and decided to take this chance to make Jensen understand, it was the least he could do.  “Yeah, we do.” He stepped back and held the door open for Jensen to enter.

He could see Jensen cataloguing the changes that Timothy had made in the house and feel his disapproval. Jensen hated the new look as much as Jared did and an apology burned on the tip of his tongue. Jensen had worked just as hard as Jared to make this house a home for their family, a haven just for them, and now it was almost unrecognizable. Jared had let Timothy not only destroy their family, but their home as well. His head bowed, shame and self-hatred weighing it down until his neck could no longer support it. A tear followed the line of his nose, dangling from the tip until it fell onto the white, plush rug Timothy had bought to cover the hardwood floors until they could be pulled up and replaced with tile. 

 “Jensen…” Jared began, hoping to get out what he needed to say before Jensen started yelling at him for ruining his life or he broke down completely.

“I’m sorry for what I said today,” Jensen interrupted and Jared paused, not expecting the words. “I know that you aren’t here because you want to be and that you’d never put the boys in danger without a good reason.” 

Jensen didn’t need to be apologizing. He was right. Jared had put the kids in danger. He deserved Jensen’s blame and anger. He tried to say something, but Jensen cut him off with a staying hand. 

“He did more than threaten the kids this time, didn’t he?” 

Jared stared at his feet, a small sniffle making its way past the curtain of his hair.

“You don’t have to worry about that anymore.”

Jared shook his head. Jensen didn’t understand, he thought Timothy was only _threatening_ to hurt people, but Jared had no doubts that he would. There was a dark side to Timothy and Jared had always been afraid of it, afraid of provoking it. If someone got hurt because of Jared, he’d never forgive himself. “I won’t let him hurt the people I love. He’ll do it, Jensen. I know he will.”

“You don’t understand,” Jensen pleaded. “Timothy won’t be a problem much longer.”

Jared stopped shaking his head. Jensen sounded so sure and despite his efforts the dying spark of hope in Jared’s chest fluttered at the confidence. 

“Jared, Matt Cohen came to see me today.”

Jared’s eyes snapped up in surprise. Why would Matt go to see Jensen? 

“He brought me a bunch of evidence that should get the case against me thrown out and have Timothy behind bars for a good long time.”

“W – Why would he do that?” Jared muttered. Matt had never held any love loss for Jared over the years. Jared had tried to be friendly, but Matt seemed to look down on him, like Jared was the other man in Timothy’s life. 

“He really needs to tell you that himself, but, basically, he’s trying to make amends. He’s looking for redemption.” Jensen stepped closer and Jared soaked up his closeness, a winter weary flower bathing in the warmth of the spring sunshine.

Jared had never honestly blamed Matt for the affair, knowing that if it hadn’t been him, Timothy would have found someone else. Matt was just another tool in Timothy’s vast arsenal to hurt Jared, no different than a frying pan or a belt. “Really?” Despite Jared’s attempts to be a realist, that little flutter of hope shined brighter.

 “Yeah,” Jensen nodded, he cupped Jared’s cheek. “I want you to go upstairs and pack your and the twins’ things. I’m getting you out of here.” 

Jared stood there for a minute battling with himself, wanting so much to believe that this was over, that all he had to do was go upstairs and pack to end the nightmare, but he’d been burned so many times. He wanted to think there was another ending to this story, but despite what Disney tried to convince you, life very rarely ended in happily ever after. 

Jensen leaned forward, his lips warm and familiar against Jared’s, making the younger man shiver. He gasped, mind temporarily overwhelmed at having Jensen like this again, before pulling himself together and returning the kiss. His hands found their way to Jensen’s back, fisting in the fabric, desperate for tangible evidence that this was real. It was passionate, filled with longing and love and reassurance, Jensen baring his soul to Jared in such a simple act. Jared clung tighter, kissed harder. If this was a dream or a cruel joke, then please God let him die with this as his last memory – the feel of Jensen’s lips against his and the taste of Jensen in his mouth. 

They broke apart, Jensen’s thumb tracing an arch over his cheekbone with such a look of adoration in his eyes that Jared felt unworthy of the honor. This was what Jared was doing this for, this man right here and the two upstairs. Jared would do anything for them, endure any pain, pay any price, beg, borrow or steal if the cost was too much. He leaned into the touch, tears making glistening trails down his cheeks.  “There’s something I need to tell you,” he whispered.

“We’ll talk later. Hurry, Jared,” Jensen kissed him again, a mere press of lips before releasing him and stepping back. “I don’t want to take the chance of Timothy coming home.”  

“Too late.” 

Jared’s whole body froze, the blood in his veins turning to ice. Jensen spun around, blocking his view and Jared moved slightly to the side to see Timothy in the doorway with a gun pointed at Jensen’s chest.  He felt Jensen tense and a cold smile ghosted over Timothy’s lips.

“Gotta love the art of German engineering. So much quieter than that piece of shit Detroit relic you love so much.”

This couldn’t be happening. Not now, not after Jared dared to believe that he and the kids could escape. He couldn’t lose Jensen. He’d rather stay with Timothy forever, knowing that Jensen was somewhere in the world safe than be free with Jensen six feet under. “Timothy, don’t,” Jared begged, trying to move around Jensen. 

“Stay back, Jared,” Jensen snarled, shifting sideways until Jared was shielded again. 

“Yes, Jared,” Timothy sneered. “Wait your turn.” Jared nearly cowered at the promise those cold eyes held.

“Over my dead body,” Jensen growled.

“That can be arranged.” 

Jared’s heart stopped as Timothy took aim. “No,” he shouted and shoved Jensen aside to stand between the two men. “Timothy, don’t. You promised me if I stayed you wouldn’t hurt him.”

“You weren’t going to stay, were you?” Timothy kept the gun pointed at Jensen. “You were going to leave with him. That negates our agreement.”

“I never said I was going with him,” Jared corrected. It was a dangerous game he was playing and Jared had no idea how it would turn out. He just knew that he couldn’t stand by and let Timothy shoot Jensen. The look Jensen gave him was wounded, eyes filled with self-doubt, and it ate at Jared, but he needed to see this through. Jensen’s plan hadn’t worked out like he’d imagined, but Jared still had his contingency, the one where nobody that Jared loved got hurt.

 “Jared, no,” he croaked.

“I never _said_ I was leaving.” _Please, Jensen, stay quiet. Let me handle this. You can’t fix this mess, only I can._

Timothy hesitated and Jared barely dared to breath, afraid that anything might set the volatile man off again. He jumped at the sound of sirens coming up the driveway. He looked down at the cell phone still clutched in Timothy’s free hand. He must have called when he pulled up and the Impala was outside.  

Timothy walked over to the hall table and put his gun in the topmost drawer. He smiled at Jensen, a look of malicious victory on his face. “I overlooked you violating the restraining order in the diner earlier, but my patience has run out. With those lips, I’m sure some nice convict named Bubba will be happy to make you his bitch.”

Timothy looked over at Jared, his face a cruel smirk. “Once the police have taken him away, I think you and I need to _discuss_ that kiss.” 

Jared saw him wink at Jensen, but before he could react Jensen growled and lunged at Timothy. Jensen’s fingers circled Timothy’s throat, the digits pressing hard into the skin, as he shoved the man against the wall. “Don’t you fucking touch him!” Jensen’s fingers tightened and Timothy gasped for air, his fingers clawing at Jensen’s constricting grasp.

“Jensen, stop!” Jared’s yelled, frightened by the violence he’d never seen before on Jensen. “Please, stop!”

“Papa Jensen?”

Jared looked up to see his sons at the top of the stairs, their hands intertwined and eyes glassy, staring down at Jensen. At the sight of them, Jensen relaxed and released Timothy. Timothy slid to the floor, sputtering, fingers tracing the reddened skin on his neck. 

“I’m sorry.” Jared attention came back to Jensen who apologized first to the kids and then to Jared. Jared shook his head in sympathy. It was unnecessary. Jared knew that Jensen had never meant to scare them. He was only trying to protect Jared. 

 Red and blue lights flashed across the white walls of the foyer and then Sheriff Jones was there with Tom and Mike in tow. Jared watched mutely as Jensen was cuffed, Timothy babbling on about the restraining order and physical assault. Jared felt numb as he watched Jensen be led from the house, his green eyes on Jared’s until the large front door slammed shut. He’d missed his chance – to tell Jensen everything he needed to say, to make Jensen understand why things had to happen this way, to keep Jensen forever.  

Sheriff Jones helped Timothy up from the floor, assuring him that Jensen wouldn’t be bothering them again. Timothy shook the older man’s hand, ushering him to the door with words of thanks. Half-way out the door, Sheriff Jones turned to Jared. “Jared, you okay?”

Jared nodded, not trusting his voice to be strong enough to sell the lie.

“Nothing you want to tell me?” Jones eyed Timothy carefully.

Timothy’s gaze was deadly behind the officer’s back. “N-no, sir,” Jared stuttered

Jones looked like he wanted to press the issue, but refrained. “All right, son,” he nodded at Jared. “You call us if you have any more problems.”

Timothy cleared his throat noisily and gave the sheriff a tight smile. “We will, Sheriff Jones.”

Timothy shut the door behind the man and stood watching out the window until the cruiser’s taillights faded into the distance. He spun around so fast that Jared didn’t have time to brace himself, the blow coming fast and hard, knocking him straight to the ground.

“You fucking little whore!” Timothy snarled, fisting his hands in Jared’s hair and lifting his head up to deliver another hit. “How _dare_ you?” He jerked Jared’s head back, forcing the younger man to face him. Leaning close, he looked Jared directly in the eye. “I hope he was worth what I’m going to do to you.” 

He kicked out hard, his foot catching Jared in his already injured ribs, forcing him onto his back. Jared screamed, body curling to protect itself. Above him he heard the boys crying and he looked up at Timothy with beseeching eyes. He’d accepted his fate, it didn’t mean his children had to witness it. “P-please, Timothy.” Blood dribbled down his chin, this lips split during Timothy’s initial blow, “Not here.”

Timothy’s lip curled into a sneer. “We’ll do this any goddamn place I want,” he grabbed Jared by the front of his shirt, leaning over him.

“Th-the boys can s-see.”

Timothy spared a hate-filled glance up at the twins, cowering against the rail of the upper landing, frozen in horror of what was happening to their father, and snorted. “I don’t give a shit about those boys. They were a means to an end, a way to keep you in line. Now I’ve got a whole town full of bargaining chips. As far as I’m concerned, they’re disposable.” He brought his lips to Jared’s ear, “Maybe it’s time for them to see what a bitch their father really is. Show them how pretty you cry.”

A surge of righteous anger fueled by a wave of protectiveness rushed through Jared. He struggled against Timothy’s hold, getting his foot up between them and kicking out, catching Timothy in the solar plexus and knocking him back. Jared rolled over and scrambled toward the stairs, desperate to get to his sons. He came up short when something snagged his ankle and looked back to see Timothy holding tight to his foot, pulling him back across the floor. Jared looked up into terrified eyes and mouthed “run” before he was hauled up and tossed across the room, hitting the wall with a resounding thud and head cracking against the door jamb to the dining room. He fell in a heap to the floor, head spinning. He checked the landing again to see the boys still there, wide, unblinking eyes staring at him as they shook their heads. Spots floated in his vision, but he held them off long enough to mouth his order to his children again. There was a flash of motion then the landing was blessedly empty.

Timothy stalked over to him and Jared reached out to the leg of the nearest table, trying to pull himself up. The lamp on top wobbled precariously, falling over to shatter on the floor, the answering machine following to land on its side. 

_*Beep*_

_Mr. Olyphant, this is Rebecca with Tony’s office. The tile has come in…”_

Timothy kicked him again, this time hitting his diaphragm and Jared gasped for breath as the muscle spasmed from the abuse. He clawed at the carpet, chest heaving but not bringing in any air. Finally the twitching muscle settled and he gulped in a ragged breath, the grayness around his vision from the lack of oxygen fading. Timothy fisted his shirt, dragging him up, his arm raised for another punch.

_*Beep*_

_Jared, it’s Dr. Morgan. I wanted to personally call and give you the results of your blood tests. Congratulations, Jared! You’re pregnant. From the looks of things you’re about ten weeks along, but we’ll need to do an ultrasound to be sure. Give the office a call and we’ll…”_

Jared stared at the machine, trying to work through the haze clouding his mind. He was pregnant? 

Timothy roared, the sound feral and inhuman, and Jared looked up in time to see Timothy’s fist coming at him. His head snapped back, connecting with the floor beneath him, and his shirt was released. 

Timothy’s face was contorted in fury, his features twisted and animalistic. “Not again!” he raged, kicking Jared in the ribs again. There was a loud crack and Jared screamed in pain, writhing on the floor as he tried to move away from the agony.

Timothy pulled his leg back for another kick and Jared forced himself to move, arms circling his torso to create a protective cage around his abdomen. Timothy didn’t stop his assault, dress shoe attacking the guarding limbs over and over, more cracks splitting the air. Jared brought his legs up, determined to protect his vulnerable stomach. The kicks continued now running a bruising path up and down his shins. He knew Timothy was talking, words flowing non-stop from hateful lips, but all Jared could hear was the mantra running through his mind. _Protectthebaby, Jensen’sbaby._

He’d accepted that tonight was probably the night that Timothy would kill him. He’d done what he could, made sure the kids would be safe. He was the one that Timothy was obsessed with and once he was dead, everyone would be safe.  His only regret had been missing his opportunity to tell Jensen everything in his heart and had hoped that the man knew, that Jared had showed him enough when they were together. But it didn’t matter now, this was about more than just Jared. He was carrying Jensen’s baby, _their_ baby. There were no longer three people in this world that Jared would do anything for. No, now there were four.

He rolled on his front, his back and sides taking the brunt of Timothy’s rage. The remains of the broken lamp were scattered in front of him and he reached out, pain rocketing down his arm, and clumsily closed numb fingers around one of the shards. Gritting his teeth and swallowing the bile churned up from the pain, he swung his arm back and imbedded the sharp-edged piece into the meat of Timothy’s calf. Timothy screamed, leg collapsing out from under him, and he fell hard to the floor. 

Jared didn’t waste a moment enjoying his victory, he pumped his legs against the hardwood, rubber-soled tennis shoes finding purchase and propelling him forward in a slither across the floor. The rug bunched under his chest, the non-slip back preventing him from sliding further. He forced uncooperative fingers to grab the shag, retching and screaming as he pulled himself over the white rug. There was movement from behind him, but Jared forced his rapidly swelling eyes to focus on the front door only a few feet away. A shadow passed over him and then Timothy was on his back, straddling him. 

“Well, see how much your precious Jensen still wants you when I’ve finished with you,” Timothy growled in his ear. Jared heard metal jangle, the rasping whisper of a zipper, and he knew what was coming. He struggled harder and received a hard blow to the back of his head for his efforts

“Stay still!”

Jared bucked and writhed, all his energy focused on getting away. His hair was pulled mercilessly, his head craned back until his spine bowed. With a sudden powerful thrust, Jared’s head connected with floor. His vision dimmed and his last thought trailed him into oblivion. _Jensen’sbaby._

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Song on the radio is "The Wrong Man Was Convicted" by the Bare Naked Ladies


	19. Chapter 19

Jensen heaved an irritated sigh and shook the cuff encircling his wrist, rattling the metal circlet attached to the leg of Milo’s desk at the other end. “Don’t y’all think this is a bit extreme?” He glowered at the sheriff through the open door of his office. Jones only snorted, eyes focused on the stack of paperwork in front of him. 

Jensen turned beseeching eyes toward Chris. “C’mon, man! Really?” He shook the cuffs again for emphasis.

Chris leaned back in his chair and propped his feet on his desk. He’d agreed to come in and babysit his best friend while Tom and Mike did their patrols, their route paying special attention to a stretch of Murphy Road that just happened to run by the Old McIntyre farm. Chris turned the page of his car magazine. “He warned you that if you didn’t stop pacing…”  

“I didn’t think he’d seriously cuff me to the desk!” Jensen exclaimed. “Chris, I gotta go back. He threatened Jared. He’s going to hurt him. I know it.  He’s put Jared in the hospital for a lot less. Please! If that bastard hurts my family, I’ll never forgive myself…or you.”

Chris dropped his feet and sat forward in his chair, the air of nonchalance he’d cloaked his real feelings in to try to keep Jensen calm faltering, “Jensen…”

“Listen, Sprout,” the sheriff interrupted and Jensen bristled at his childhood nickname, the one his Papaw had given him when he was young. Jones was now standing in the doorway to his office, leaning against the jamb. His face was sympathetic, but Jensen had known the man long enough to see the frustration hardening the lines around the Sheriff’s eyes and mouth. “Nobody wants anything to happen to Jared or the twins but our hands are tied. I tried to get Jared to tell me, but I can only lead a horse to the water.”

“He’s scared,” Jensen defended then added quietly, “I’m scared. You don’t know the things that Timothy has done to him…the scars…” He dropped heavily into Milo’s chair, his free arm propped on the desktop and supporting his aching head. There was a picture of Sandy near the phone and Jensen closed his eyes to her smiling face, unable to bear any semblance of joy when he felt like his heart was dying. He didn’t know how, but in his gut there was this certainty that this time Timothy would go too far, would kill Jared. He tugged the cuff again, jaw tightening. 

A warm hand landed on his shoulder and squeezed. “I know, Sprout.”

“No, you don’t,” Jensen snapped back, eyes opening to glare at his presumptuous mentor.

“I _know_ ,” Jones repeated, voice calm and brows raised, the significant look on his face clearly telegraphing his meaning.

Jensen’s mouth went slack with sudden realization. “You – you read Jared’s medical files? How?”

“I’ve made it my business to read about quite a few things in the last two weeks. You whippersnappers aren’t the only one with friends in high places.” At Jensen and Chris’s impressed and questioning gazes, the corner of his lips twitched up in a smile. “I helped out the US Marshalls back in the nineties with a manhunt for a Chicago doctor. Turned out he didn’t do what they thought he’d done, but they were grateful for the assistance none- the- less.”

“Then you understand why I need to go back,” Jensen looked up with pleading eyes.

“I understand,” Jones agreed. “Doesn’t mean I’m going to let you. Legally there is nothing we can do and Timothy can make things so much worse for you. Especially until Jake gets those trumped up charges dropped. He said it could take a few days to get everything cleared, right?”

“I don’t give a damn about the fucking case!” Jensen yelled. “All I care about is keeping my family safe.”

“I’ve got Tom and Mike doing nothing but going up and down that patch of road in front of Jared’s house. They’ve been told if the wind so much as blows wrong, they’re to go in.”

“We’re doing everything we can,” Chris added.

“It’s not enough,” Jensen shook off Jones’s hand still clasping his shoulder. “Even if they realized something was wrong, by the time they get there Jared could be dead and Timothy would be long gone. I need to get Jared and the boys out before that happens.”

“You can’t protect them if you’re in jail,” Chris reasoned. 

“He can’t press charges if he’s dead,” Jensen growled back.

“First off, we didn’t hear that and, second, if you go back all that will happen…” Chris was cut off by the sound of a ringing phone. Exchanging a momentarily confused look, all three of their heads turned in unison toward Danneel’s desk where Jensen had set his phone during his earlier pacing.

Unthinking, Jensen jumped up, cursing when the handcuff caught and jerked him back down by the wrist. “Off, off, off,” he grit out, pushing at the metal in an attempt to force it over his hand, the skin at the base of his palm reddening from the effort. “Chris! Answer it before it goes to voicemail. It might be Jared.”

Chris lurched to his feet and hurried to the phone. Seeing Jared’s name on the display, he opened it. “Jared?”

Jensen pulled wildly on the cuffs, the desk noisily shifting a few inches with each tug. “Give it to me!”

Chris’s brow furrowed at the chaotic noise echoing over the line. He pulled the phone away from his ear and looked at the display then replaced it. “Jared? What’s going on?”

“Give. It. To. Me!” Jensen yanked the desk with each word, moving it a few more inches.  Chris came closer slowly, not wanting his friend to hurt himself, but mind too preoccupied trying to understand what he was hearing. His face was still contorted in a mask of confusion and Jensen stilled, his feelings matching his friend’s. “Is he –“ Jensen listened closer to the noise coming across the phone, “Is he laughing?”

Chris shook his head, his expression unsure. The voice was talking too fast and the words were garbled. Finally, he made out ‘Papa’ and his face paled. “Benji? Benji, is that you?”

“Papa!” 

His name, the one that the boys had given him, echoed loudly over the line and Jensen’s heart stopped. Chris pulled the phone away at the exclamation and for the first time Jensen could really hear the voices on the other end. His boys weren’t laughing, they were crying…hysterically. Benji and Teddy didn’t cry. Timothy had taught them that lesson long ago, so for them to be so uncontrollable something bad must have happened. Anger surged through him – at Sheriff Jones for not believing him, for cuffing him; Chris for not getting his fucking ass over there with the phone; at what he imagined Timothy had done to make his boys so upset; and, most importantly, at himself for allowing any of this to happen. He grabbed the bottom of the desk and heaved, turning it over and slipping the cuff from around the leg. Jones jumped back, narrowly avoiding the up-ended furniture or the tumbling items that had once rested on top of it. 

Jensen stepped on and over the spilled items – Milo’s coffee cup and the picture of Sandy lost under his boot tread – and snatched the phone from his best friend.

“Benji? It’s okay, buddy.” Tears stung Jensen’s eyes and his heart thundered against his ribcage. In the background, he could hear Teddy’s sobs and the image of Benji with his arm protectively around his brother sprang to mind. Jensen took a shaky breath. “It’s Papa. Tell me what’s wrong.”

“Father hit him,” the words were stilted, coming out between great hiccupping heaves that told Jensen Benji’s cries had not just started. “Daddy didn’t…didn’t move. His eyes,” the sentence died into emotion choked sounds, whimpers and tears crackling down the line. 

“Benji?” Jensen’s breath hitched. _Daddy didn’t move_. He swallowed and licked his lips, desperately trying to rein in his emotions. “Where are you, buddy?” The sound of anguish and fear was his only answer. “Benji! I need you to tell me where you are so I can come get you. Are you at home?”  Benji sniffled and whined, his gasping breaths bordering on hyperventilation.  “Benji, is Teddy there with you? Give the phone to Teddy.” Teddy had always been the shyer of the twins, drawing on Benji’s strength and confidence, but Jensen knew that the boy had reserves that rivaled his brother’s. Right now, Jensen was counting on that. 

There was a rustling and then Jensen heard Teddy’s meek. “Papa?”

“Teddy?” Jensen breathed a sigh of relief at hearing the small boy’s voice. “Where are you at?”  

“Daddy made us leave. He told us to run, but we didn’t want to. He made us, Papa! I swear!” Teddy’s words were rushed and jumbled, tumbling out of his mouth interspersed with wracking sobs.

“It’s okay, Teddy Bear,” Jensen soothed. “You did good, little man. Where did Daddy tell you to go? Where are you?” Jensen could barely hold back the panic. He remembered Jared telling him about the contingency plan he’d devised back in Atlanta if Timothy ever went too far – the boys were to go to Uncle Chad. Had Jared set up another escape plan for twins? 

“Your house. Daddy said to go to you. He said to run and not look back.” Jensen could still hear Benji crying in the background and at Teddy’s whispered, “Daddy’s eyes were closed” the crying grew in volume.

“You’re at my house?” Jensen repeated and saw Jones rush to the phone on Welling’s desk. Swallowing, he tried to sound comforting. “You did so good, little man. You and your brother both. I need you to do something for me. Go into the shed where Papa parks the Impala and shut the doors. You think you can do that?” 

Jones tapped him on the arm, “Welling and Rosenbaum are en route. ETA less than five.”

Jensen nodded, “Teddy?” He could hear the sound of the wind blowing over the receiver. “Are you going to the shed?”

“Yes, Papa,” Teddy answered.

“That’s my good boys. Listen, Uncle Mike and Uncle Tom will be there in a few minutes. Stay in the shed and don’t come out for anyone but them. Okay? They’ll take you to Papaw and Nana’s.” Jensen was tugging on his jacket, Chris and Sheriff Jones pulling theirs on as well.

“I want you,” Teddy whined, his sniffling beginning anew. “Why can’t you come get us?”

“I know, buddy. I’ll be there as soon as I can, but I have to go help Daddy first. I’m gonna stay on the phone with you until Uncle Tom and Uncle Mike show up.” He walked toward the door, his hand out for the keys to his car.

Chris shook his head, ignoring the glower he received. “You talk, I’ll drive.”

*****

Tom and Mike had shown up to gather the twins just as Jensen, Chris and Sheriff Jones were turning into the driveway to Jared’s house.  Jared’s new Escalade sat alone in the yard, Timothy’s Mercedes no longer parked beside it, and the house was dark save a dim light from the upstairs window to Jared’s room.  The three men approached the house cautiously, Chris and Jones with their service weapons drawn and ready. The screen door banged in the cool night breeze and the front door stood open, heated air from inside warming the welcome mat. Jensen moved into the foyer, eyes and ears alert for anything in the darkness. “Jared?” He called out.

Chris followed him in and ran his hand along the wall, searching for the light switch. With a flick of the wrist, the space was suddenly illuminated and all the air in Jensen’s lungs left him in a gasp. The foyer was in shambles. The lamp that was providing the light was lying on the floor on its side, the ceramic base shattered and the shade bent.  The answering machine was smashed, its internal components broken beyond repair and scattered across the floor. Everywhere Jensen looked there was dried blood. Drips were spattered over the hardwood and along the door casing to the kitchen, but the rug had taken the brunt. There were two large puddles and several parallel red streaks. Jensen crouched beside the rug and stared at the red lines, Chris coming over to join him.

“Downstairs is clear.” Chris followed his friend’s gaze and frowned. He stepped back and took in the rug as a whole. “He was trying to use the rug to crawl to the door.”

Jensen nodded his head, already having come to that conclusion. He squared his jaw, forcing himself to harden against the idea of Jared clawing his way across the floor. His stomach turned when he noticed that the red lines ended right before the smaller of the two puddles. 

“Let’s check upstairs,” Jones moved toward the stairs, but stopped when he saw the wide smears of red on each step. He looked back at Jensen. “Maybe you should stay down here,” he suggested, raising his hand when Jensen’s mouth automatically opened to protest. “We have no idea what we’re going to find, Jensen.”

Jensen stared at his mentor in the eye. “Understood. Let’s go.” He pushed past the older man and began to ascend the stairs.

They moved up the stairs as a silent unit, honed from years of working as a team. They separated at the landing, checking the dark rooms for hidden danger. Signaling ‘all clear’, they came back together in front of the last room to be checked. Dull light peeked into the hall through the cracked open door of the master bedroom, but it was just as silent as the rest of the house. Jensen took a deep breath and carefully nudged the door open with the tips of his fingers. It swung on a slow arc and Jensen froze, needing to see what lay inside while at the same time afraid of what he’d find. His breath left him in a harsh rush.

The room hadn’t been spared Timothy’s redecorating wrath. The space that had once been his and Jared’s sanctuary – the place they could shut out everything and just be themselves; the place they’d spent Sunday mornings curled up with the twins like a pile of puppies watching cartoons – was unrecognizable. Gone were the antique pieces that screamed love and home; modern, sleek updates now stood in their spots. The framed evidence of the kids growing up, of their love, that Jared had lovingly selected to cover the walls and flat surfaces had been replaced with artistic, sterilized choices by an interior decorator that held no meaning to the inhabitants. The makeover; however, wasn’t what had Jensen’s heart thundering in his ears and his blood rushing through his veins. 

The bed was an unruly mess, the ivory bedclothes disheveled and stained and the pillows scattered to the four corners of the room. The fitted sheet had pulled loose from one corner of the bed and showed a quarter of the large mattress underneath, bought new when Jared moved to Wowakan and now sporting spots of dark red-brown that hadn’t been there the last time Jensen’d help change the sheets.  The top sheet spilled over the far edge in a satin waterfall, cream shot through with splotches of bright red. A harsh rattling sound filled the room and Jensen looked dumbly at the floor mounted heating register. Rounding the end of the bed, his eyes widened and his knees painfully hit the carpeted floor.

Jensen dimly heard voices swirling around him, pitched loud in worry. He walked forward on his aching knees, eyes riveted on the still form on the floor. 

Jared was dead. Jensen had failed him. He’d come too late and now Jared was dead.

Jensen’s hands trembled as he reached out, needing to touch his love one last time. His fingers ghosted over Jared’s bruise mottled back, jumping back when they felt the skin shift under the sensitive pads. 

“Jared?” It was little more than a croak and cut off abruptly on an exhale. Jensen’s eyes widened, finally seeing the slight and erratic rise and fall of Jared’s back, so easy to miss unless you were watching carefully. He blinked back tears as his hand extended again to gently roll the battered body over.

“Jared?” He repeated, fingers tenderly stroking down a blood crusted cheek to rest at the faint, fluttering at Jared’s neck. Jared’s eyes were swollen, the left completely shut and the right very nearly. A winding river of dried blood led from a jagged gash bisecting a lump on Jared’s forehead to mat his eyelashes. Bruises shadowed his jaw and neck, those around his throat suspiciously finger shaped. The rattling he’d mistaken as a loose heating vent was more of a gurgling now that he was closer, growing and decreasing in volume with each laboriously slow breath Jared took in.

Jensen gathered Jared in his arms, unconsciously rocking back and forth as he cooed soothing words. His hand lay gently against Jared’s chest, needing to feel the thrum of a heartbeat no matter how faint and the expansion of lungs despite the irregularity. Purple dotted with black completely obscured the normally tanned skin over Jared’s ribcage and Jensen gently ran his hands over the abused flesh, wondering if he would know what a broken rib would feel like by touch. 

“Jensen?” Chris voice was low, close to his ear, and a hand rested on his shoulder. “The paramedics are on their way.”

Jensen nodded, sniffling he pulled the sheet up higher to cover Jared’s bare body. He couldn’t let them see Jared like this. Jared wouldn’t like others seeing him naked. He pressed kisses to blood and sweat matted hair. “It’s okay, Jared. I’ve got you. Not gonna let anything happen. Right here.” He refused to look at the damage, knowing there would be time for that later. All that mattered right now was Jared and ignoring the gurgling he could hear with each exhale.

An eternity later, gentle hands prodded him, urging him away from Jared and he tightened his hold. He shook his head, pressing his cheek to Jared’s temple and worrying at the coolness of his love’s skin. 

“Sir, we need you to move,” a male voice encouraged, once again pulling carefully on the arms wrapped around the damaged man.

“No,” Jensen muttered in a voice he didn’t recognize, “he needs me.”

“Yes, he does,” he heard a woman say, a small hand lay comfortingly on his neck, “but, right now, he needs us more.” Jensen pulled his eyes from the sporadic up and down of Jared’s chest to see kind, concerned blue eyes on him. “Let us help?”

Jensen swallowed and nodded, uncurling his stiff arms from Jared’s body and pressing a kiss to Jared’s blue-tinged lips. “You be good for these people and do what they say, okay, Jared? I’ll see you real soon.” He slipped back and took a steadying breath as the uniformed personnel descended on Jared’s form, crowding around him and obscuring him from Jensen’s view. 

He stepped forward, wanting, needing, to see Jared, but strong arms surrounded his chest. “Let them work,” Chris’s voice husked in his ear, emotions deepening the timber. 

“Bag him,” the male paramedic barked at a younger man standing near a large duffel, the blue star of life emblazoned on the side.

“What?!” Jensen screamed, fighting against Chris’s hold. No, Jared couldn’t be dead. He was just alive. What happened? They did something to him, Jared was just alive in Jensen’s arms.

The female paramedic came over to him quickly, shooting a glare at her apologetic looking male partner. “Your friend isn’t breathing that well and we need to help. Nick is going to use a bag-valve mask to get him some air until we can put a tube in. That’s what Sean meant by ‘bag him’.” She tilted her head down until her eyes met Jensen’s. “I’m sorry he upset you.” When she didn’t get a response, she looked over at Chris. “You got him? I need to get back.”

Jensen felt movement by his shoulder and the blue eyes disappeared. “It’s okay” was whispered next to his ear and the arms around him tightened. “I’ve got you.” Jensen struggled half-heartedly before sinking back into his friend’s embrace, watching the three people work furiously over Jared. 

 

* * *

 

Jensen sat in a hard plastic chair and stared unseeingly at the far wall of the waiting room. His eyes were tired and dry, the red rims aching from the silent tears that had fallen on the way to the hospital. He’d been allowed to ride in the ambulance, but Jared’s condition had relegated him to the front seat so the paramedics had room to work in the back. He heard their urgent voices calling for medications and equipment, his body trembling with fear that Jared wouldn’t make the trip. The younger man, the EMT, gave him compassionate looks from the driver’s seat and tried to gently reassure him that his partners would do everything they could for Jared, but the consolation didn’t penetrate the haze of worry. At the hospital, he was ushered to the waiting room by an elderly candy-striper and there he’d been for the last hour. His mind was lost in a vicious cycle of ‘what if’ and ‘couldn’t be’ and ‘my fault’.

Chris and Sheriff Jones had shown up while Jensen was staring uncomprehendingly at a nurse in teddy bear scrubs trying to hand him a stack of paperwork that needed to be completed. 

“Jensen?” 

Jensen’s eyes slowly tracked over to his best friend and something Chris saw in them had him quietly taking the clipboard from the woman with promises to take care of the forms. 

“All right, buddy,” Chris said softly, sitting next to Jensen and uncapping the pen provided. “Let’s just take it one line at a time.” 

With some cajoling, Chris was able to get the papers finished, Jensen’s answers coming out flat and dull. He turned the clipboard back in, frowning as he sat next down next to his friend and eyed him warily. He managed a ghost of a smile when Steve bustled in, his boyfriend enveloping an unresponsive Jensen in a hug before treating Chris to the same. Chris took a steadying breath and tightened his embrace when he felt Steve shudder in his arms. Jared may be Jensen’s, but the young man had touched everyone.

Releasing him with a kiss to the neck, Chris sat back down as Steve made his way to the seat on Jensen’s other side. They pressed their shoulders against the hurting man between them, offering what little support they could.

Jensen stared at his hands resting on his thighs, one cupped loosely in the other. They were stained red the color dark in the whorls on his fingertips and in the creases of his palm and knuckles. He rubbed his thumb over the pad of the index finger on his other hand, movement becoming frantic when the dried blood didn’t seem to come off.  Large hands covered his, stopping his efforts.

“Come on,” Steve gently pulled Jensen to his feet, one hand cradling his elbow to move the disturbingly pliant man. “Let’s get you cleaned up some. Can’t have your boy seeing you looking like an extra in a Tarrantino movie.” Steve guided him toward the bathroom, Jensen woodenly following.

Steve turned on the warm water and pumped a squirt of the liquid soap into his palm. Lowering Jensen’s hands under the stream, he vigorously lathered them, pointedly ignoring the pink bubbles the washing produced. “I talked to your Momma,” he said quietly, happy when Jensen’s eyes met his in the mirror. At least he knew his friend was in there somewhere. “She has the twins. They’re scared and cold, but they’re not hurt.” He examined Jensen’s hands and got some more soap, using his fingernails to get into the places his simple wiping had missed. “She’s gonna call Jared’s parents for you.”

Jensen’s reflection continued to stare at him as Steve rinsed away the remaining traces of Jared’s blood. He turned off the water and waved his hand in front of the towel dispenser, the motion activated sensor spitting out a pre-measured sheet. Patting Jensen’s hands dry, he startled at Jensen’s broken voice in the heavy silence.

“What if he dies? I – I can’t do this without him.” 

Steve shivered at the childlike frailty of Jensen’s questions. “You could,” Steve assured, nodding when Jensen’s incredulous eyes came up to his own. “If you had to, you could.”

“I don’t want to,” Jensen whispered, gaze dropping to where Steve still held his hands wrapped in the damp paper towels. 

Steve studied his friend’s face as tears he didn’t think Jensen even knew were falling silently tracked down his cheeks. “The twins are going to need you. You’ll find a way.” He balled up the paper towel and tossed it in the trash can. Taking Jensen’s hand, he led him back to his seat in the waiting room.

Chris stood as they approached, his arm coming around Jensen’s shoulders and sitting them down on the uncomfortable chairs. Jones was near the entrance talking animatedly into his cell phone and Steve raised an eyebrow in his direction.

“He’s on the phone with the Plymouth County Sheriff’s Department. They’re sending over personnel to help,” Chris explained.

“Timothy?” Steve asked, worried eyes flicking to Jensen.

“Gone,” Chris gritted out, his jaw clenched. Between them Jensen shuddered slightly and Chris rubbed his hand up and down his arm as Steve smoothed a thumb along the back of his hand. “Don’t worry, Jen. We’re calling in reinforcements from all over to look for him. We’ll find him,” Chris promised, “We’ll find him and make him pay.”

 

* * *

 

“Papa! Papa!”

Jensen’s eyes snapped back into focus and he tore them away from where he’d been staring at the damning double doors at the opposite end of the waiting room. From the entrance came the twins, running around and between the hurt and ill patients still needing to be seen, their arms extended and faces glossy with flowing tears. He slipped from his seat into a crouch in time to catch them and pulled them close to his body, kissing their saltwater stained cheeks and soaking up the comfort of their warm bodies. He stood, one arm supporting each boy as they clung to his neck, to see his parents walking toward him.

Jostling the twins in an attempt to quiet their cries, Jensen was hugged by first his mother then his father. “What are you doing here?” He murmured quietly, voice rough from his own tears and being silent for so long.

“They were beside themselves,” Karen smoothed soothing hands down trembling backs. “They don’t need us right now. They need you.” She palmed her son’s cheek, heart aching at the pain she saw on his face as much as it did for the young man lying somewhere in the depths of this building.

Jensen nodded and hugged the boys tighter to his chest, their sobs vibrating against his neck where they were hiding. He hadn’t wanted them here, didn’t want to upset them, traumatize them, but truth be told, he probably needed them as much as they needed him.

“Have they told you anything?” Alex cupped his son’s shoulder.

Jensen swallowed, eyes fluttering shut as he shook his head slowly.  “Frances and Robert?” He looked to his mother.

“Making arrangements now. They’ll call when they have flight times.” She patted his arm.

Jensen nodded his head and took a deep breath, nostril flaring as he tried to keep his eyes dry. He sat down, adjusting the twins on his lap. 

Benji’s head lifted and teary green eyes stared straight into Jensen’s. “Where’s Daddy?”

Jensen gave the boy a watery smile. “The nice doctors and nurses are still taking care of him.”

“Is he going to be okay?” Benji played with a button on Jensen’s shirt, tracing the pearl circle with his finger then flicking it as he sniffled. Still buried in the crook of Jensen’s neck, Teddy froze, waiting.

“I don’t know yet,” Jensen answered truthfully. 

Benji lay his head back down, still idly fingering the buttons. “Daddy fought back,” he whispered and Jensen could feel the fabric of his shirt dampening at both shoulders. “He’s never fought back before. Father was so mad.” Benji shivered. 

“What did Father do?” Jensen was so focused on the twins that he hadn’t realized that Sheriff Jones had come over. The older man was crouched beside his chair and looking at the boys with friendly eyes. 

“Not now, Tommy Lee,” Jensen warned. 

“Jensen, they were there,” Jones reasoned. “If Jared…,” he trailed off, “they’re the only ones that saw what happened. They’re our only witnesses.”

“They’re my sons!” Jensen seethed, bouncing his legs when the boys whimpered at the harshness of his tone. He felt Steve and Chris’ hands on his arms and he tried to calm down for the twins’ sake

“I know that, but they could put Timothy away. Even if they love him, they wouldn’t want him to…”

“Father hates us,” Teddy cut him off, his face red in anger when it emerged from his hiding place. “He said so. And I hate him. He – he said he never cared about us. He said we were d-diposable. He hit Daddy and kicked him.” Teddy’s tears were coming fast and hard, the words pouring from him like purged poison. His body convulsed with the sobs that disrupted and contorted his sentences. Jensen tried to calm him, but the boy wouldn’t be soothed. Benji clutched his hand in Jensen’s shirt, listening to his brother. “He – he said it was time for us to see wh-what a b-bitch Daddy was. How p-pretty Daddy cried. He – he – he,” Teddy lost his breath on a great, wet hiccups that ended in a heart-wrenching sob.

Jensen hugged the boys closer to him, his eyes locked on the sheriff. Jones patted the twins on the back, cleared his throat and stood, walking toward the door. He kept his back turned to the room and Jensen saw his shoulders trembling.

The twins cries dwindled, their small bodies unable to sustain the act for long before their tears ran dry. They sat in miserable silence, clinging to Jensen, as they quaked through the aftershocks. Clearing his throat, Jensen started the only thing he knew would calm them.

“At the far end of town where the Grickle-grass grows and the wind smells slow-and-sour when it blows and no birds ever sing excepting old crows…is the Street of the Lifted Lorax.”

Rigid muscles relaxed in increments beneath his hands until soon he held two pliant children, exhaustion and fear and worry combining with the lulling words of the bedtime story to sap their strength. Jensen’s low voice continued to paint the Once-ler’s tale about the plight of the Swomee-Swans, the Brown Bar-ba-loots and the Humming-Fish, stuttering breaths against his damp neck slowing and evening out as the Truffula Trees disappeared.

“Then the Lorax and all of his friends may come back,” he finished, rubbing hands up and down small backs. He leaned his head against the wall behind him and stared at the ceiling, oblivious to the wet eyes watching him.

Time dragged on, Jensen measuring its passage by counting the puffs of air across his skin. He was in the three hundreds when a commotion at the door drew his eyes from the acoustic tiles above him. 

“Where is he?!” The voice had a hysterical edge to it.

“Chad, please. Calm down. This isn’t helping.” Penn’s soft tone only seemed to rile the blonde man up more.

“Don’t. _Tell me_. To calm. Down,” Chad seethed through his teeth, eyes piercing his boyfriend like daggers. His normally styled hair was standing on end and his hands were closed in tight fists. “Someone tell me where Jared is!”

Jensen slowly made his way to his feet, center of balance thrown off by the sleeping twins in his arms. 

“Chad, they’ll call security if you don’t get ahold of yourself.” Joseph stepped between the irate man and Penn. Chad exuded a ragged, barely contained aura of violence, a ticking time bomb, and he wanted Penn out of the blast zone when he exploded. His feelings for Penn might have changed – no longer the unrequited love he’d felt before he met Tom – but that didn’t mean that Penn wasn’t still his best friend.

“I don’t care! Let them call the fucking Army as far as I’m concerned. Somebody better start imparting some serious info in a hurry.” 

Jensen navigated through the still numerous people seated in chairs and wheelchairs, shushing the boys gently when Chad’s angry words threatened to rouse them. He’d known Chad for a long time, but he’d never seen him as anything but the quirky goofball. If Timothy had seen Chad like this, he might not have so easily dismissed him as a threat all those years ago. Chad looked…formidable.

“Mate,” Hardy placed a large hand on Chad’s shoulder, lifting it quickly when fierce blue eyes leveled him with a glare. Holding the hand up in surrender, Hardy continued, “Joseph’s right. You won’t be any good to Jared in jail.”

Chad snorted. “Who’s gonna arrest me? The entire sheriff’s department is here.” Chad flung a hand around the waiting room and Jensen stopped. He blinked and took in the people he’d been weaving through, realizing that most of them were friends and family. Dakota and Austin were huddled in the corner by Jensen’s parents; Milo and Sandy were talking quietly against a wall; Sam Ferris was holding Jim Beaver’s hand, stroking the back with her thumb; Tom and Mike, still in uniform, were standing near the coffee maker with Styrofoam cups in their hands; Misha and Vicky perused the vending machine offerings; Sheriff Jones had an arm draped comfortingly around his wife who sat beside a distraught Danneel; Steve and Chris trailed behind him in case they were needed.  His heart warmed at seeing so many there, all waiting for news on Jared. 

“Jensen!” Chad rushed forward, anger now finding a focus. Chris and Steve instinctively stepped up to stand on either side of Jensen. “What the hell, man? I go to the Amazon for a month and you let the fucker get ahold of him again. How could you? I trusted you to keep him safe! Fuck, _he_ trusted you.” Teddy whimpered slightly and Jensen pressed a kiss the boy’s head quieting him again. 

“Now, wait a goddamn minute,” Chris snarled.

“No, he’s right,” Jensen agreed softly. Chad hadn’t said anything that Jensen didn’t already think. “I didn’t protect him…them.” He kissed the boys again.

“No, Jensen,” Chris protested. “He’s been off filming some documentary in fucking Brazil. He has no idea what’s been going on here. None of this was your fault.”

“I promised to keep them safe. That I’d never let him hurt them again,” Jensen’s vision went blurry with unshed tears. “I failed and Jared suffering because of it.”

“Jenny,” Chad’s eyes were soft, his anger now vented leaving behind only pain.

“Jensen?”

Jensen turned to see Dr. Morgan standing at the double doors, surgical cap clutched in one hand. The physician’s face was drawn and tired, his lips set in a tight line that made Jensen’s stomach sink. He’d known JD since he was a kid and had never seen the man this serious. He took a step, but was stopped by a restraining hand on his arm.

“Give us the boys.” Steve was already reaching out for Benji. Jensen wanted to object. He was certain that the only reason he was still sane was the comforting weight of the twins in his arms, but he knew it was probably best that he talk to JD alone. He needed to be strong for Benji and Teddy and if it was bad news, he wasn’t sure he could keep a hold of his tremulous composure. Reluctantly, he passed Benji to Steve and Teddy to Chris, pressing kisses to the back of their heads before crossing to the doctor.  Friends and family stood, giving him reassuring smiles, as he passed and he tried to smile back, but knew it fell short.

He was led into a small room, JD’s hand a warm presence on his back that sent chills up and down his spine.  In his line of work, he’d witnessed a lot of people receive news and when hospital staff led you to the consultation rooms, it was never good. In Chicago they called these rooms the ‘I’m sorry, but’ rooms, the staff always beginning their speeches with those words – _I’m sorry, but your son was raped, I’m sorry but your husband didn’t make it, I’m sorry we did everything we could_ , _but your wife’s injuries were too great_. He bit his lip to stop the trembling and turned watery eyes to the doctor. “He’s dead.” A weight settled in his stomach as he said the words and for a moment Jensen wasn’t sure if he was going to throw up, pass out or break down. He sat down on the vinyl covered couch, shaking hands clasped tightly between his legs.

“What?” JD looked at him in confusion. “No,” he shook his head vehemently. “No, Jared’s in recovery.”

“Recovery?” Jensen repeated, a tiny flicker of hope sparking in his chest. “But this is the ‘I’m sorry, but’ room.”

JD studied him for a minute before realizing what Jensen’s words must mean. “Jen, I didn’t mean to alarm you. I just wanted somewhere private so we could talk. Right now, Jared’s stable.”

“Stable?” That little flicker of hope grew to a small flame.  

“Like I said, right now Jared is stable.” JD’s eyes were serious again. JD sat next to him and placed his hand on Jensen’s knee. “His injuries were severe and the next few days will be crucial.” 

“What were his injuries…exactly?”

“It’s probably going to be hard to hear.” JD squeezed his knee.

“Tell me.” Jensen stared at his hands.

JD searched his face. It was never easy to tell family about their loved ones, but Jensen was different. He’d known the man since he was little, had treated him for everything from a broken arm when he was six to a ruptured appendix when he was sixteen. Taking a breath, he nodded, deciding that the only way he would get through this was to pretend that Jared was just another patient and that Jensen was just another family member. “The damage to his face and neck were largely soft tissue, no fractures. He has two broken and two cracked ribs on the right side. From the looks of it, he was probably kicked repeatedly although a few of the cracks looked like they were in the beginning  stages of healing so I’m guessing he’d been injured there in the past week as well.”

Jensen nodded, remembering Jared flinching when the twins hugged him yesterday. “But that’s not all,” he prompted.

“No,” JD looked down and licked his lips. “One of the broken ribs punctured Jared’s right lung, collapsing it. He developed a hemopneumothorax,” at seeing Jensen’s raised brow, he explained, “the empty space where his lung was, filled with air and blood. He underwent surgery to repair the damage done by the rib and we put in two chest tubes. Once the air and fluid is drained, the lung should re-inflate. Both the bones in Jared’s left forearm were broken as well as two of the small bones in his left hand and his right ulna. We were able to manually set the hand and the right arm, but had to put in plates and screws in the left. He has widespread bruising to the back and both of his kidneys took a beating, but don’t seem to have suffered permanent damage. His left shin is bruised pretty bad and the right tibia is fractured. Amazingly the abdomen doesn’t seem to have taken any of the abuse which is good because…”

“Is that everything?” Jensen interrupted, needing to get it all out now, not sure he could handle finding out more later.

“Other than the concussion and the more personal injuries.”

Jensen just stared and waited for JD to continue, mind still reeling from the laundry list of Jared’s injuries.

JD hesitated for a minute, deliberating on how to put this next bit of information. “There was significant…trauma to the rectum that would indicate that Jared was forced…” He let the sentence trail off. 

“Jared was raped?” Jensen gasped, face paling. He felt bile rise in his throat and he swallowed it down.

“Yes,” JD started, then sighed, professionalism waning. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t distance himself. This was Jensen. “I’m so sorry, Jensen. We did the kit, but didn’t find any evidence of semen. Looks like whoever it was used a condom. It also,” he stopped unable to continue. 

“It also, what?” 

JD looked at Jensen, regret clouding his eyes. “From what I can tell from the examination, it wasn’t the first time…recently.” 

Rage bubbled up from somewhere dark and deep in Jensen’s soul. He could taste the hatred in the back of his throat, thick and cloying on his tongue, and his hands curled into tight fists. Timothy had… He took a cleansing breath and tried to focus on what was important. Revenge would come later, but it _would_ come. “Is he going to be okay?”

JD smiled slightly. “Right now he’s in a coma and he might need more surgeries down the road, but barring any complications…”

Jensen sagged into the sofa, relief cutting the strings that had kept him upright. “He’s going to be okay,” he sighed.

“You know I can’t guarantee that,” JD felt the need to warn. “Kid’s tough though. More than you or I, that’s for damn sure. Far as I can tell, Jared and the baby are both going to be fine.” 

“Baby?!”

“Yeah,” JD frowned. 

“Jared’s pregnant?”

“He just found out yesterday. Actually,” JD scrunched his face in thought, “he might not know. I left it on his answering machine last night. I don’t know if he got the message.” Realizing that this might be the first time that Jensen had heard the news, he paled. “Oh, God. Jensen, I’m so sorry. You didn’t know yet.”

“No,” Jensen breathed, “I didn’t.”  Jared was pregnant. He sat quiet for a minute until a thought occurred to him that had him grabbing his rebelling stomach. Jared was pregnant and JD had just told him that Timothy had forced himself on Jared. What if the pregnancy was because he’d been raped? “H-how far along?”  

“Ten weeks, give or take a few days.” JD knew where Jensen’s mind had gone.

“Ten weeks pregnant?” Jared was ten weeks pregnant. Even Jensen’s addled brain could do the math. He felt shell-shocked. Jared was pregnant with his baby. He was going to be a father!

 Jensen’s earlier rage came back. Timothy had not only almost taken Jared from him, he almost took his unborn child too. He tried to swallow it down, he had questions that needed answering. “You said the baby is okay though, right?”

“From what I can see, yes. The heartbeat is strong and the ultrasound looks good. Baby is measuring right on track.”  JD looked at him and pursed his lips. “Hold on a minute. I’ll be right back.” The man got up and quickly walked out of the room, returning with a folder before Jensen had really acknowledged his absence.

“Here,” JD handed him a small, slick piece of paper. 

Jensen stared at the grainy black and white picture, brows creased in confusion. He tilted his head to the side, expression clearing as understanding dawned. “Is this…?” He looked up at the doctor.

“That’s your baby,” JD confirmed. 

“Can – can I have this?” Jensen’s eyes were drawn back to the picture, finger tracing the image. He could just make out a head and tiny little arms.

“Keep it,” JD smiled. “That little bundle of yours probably helped save Jared’s life.”

Jensen forced his gaze away from the photo. “How so?”

“During pregnancy, the body’s blood supply increases anywhere from forty to fifty percent to accommodate the fetus. That extra blood volume allowed Jared’s body to compensate longer despite the significant blood loss,” JD explained. “If he hadn’t been pregnant, he probably would have succumbed to his injuries.”

Jensen smiled down at his little hero. A new fear crept up his spine. “Did the blood loss hurt the baby?” Another following quick on the first’s heels. “What about the coma?”

“No,” JD assured him, “Jared didn’t lose enough to affect the baby and the coma might actually be beneficial. In the coma, Jared is not putting any additional demands on his body. It’s being allowed to heal. I should warn you that if Jared needs any more surgeries, there might be a risk to the baby.” JD held up his hand when Jensen looked like he was about to say something. “That’s _if_ he needs more surgeries. You’re still listed in Jared’s medical files as the one to make decisions so you’ll be advised of the risks to both Jared and the baby should that occur so you can give informed consent.”

Jensen nodded his head, thankful that Timothy had never thought to check on that small detail. The thought of that bastard having any kind of control over Jared’s health, let alone his child’s, made his stomach churn. He stared down at the picture again.

“I take it this is a good thing then?” JD asked, pointing at the picture.

“Yeah,” Jensen agreed, “it’s a good thing, and once Jared is better, it’ll be a great thing.”

 

* * *

 

Jensen stood in the doorway of Jared’s ICU room transfixed by the impossibly small looking form on the bed. Wires and tubes ran over Jared’s skin and under his hospital gown, connecting him to the myriad of machines surrounding the head of his bed. Clicks, whirs and whooshes filled the air in a song of vitality, of life. Jensen stumbled forward, eyes taking in the purpling bruises and angry cuts on Jared’s face and the exposed portions of his skin, the fiberglass casts. He leaned over the rail and pressed a kiss to the battered man’s temple, careful of the tube that was forcing air into Jared’s lungs.

He wrapped his fingers around Jared’s protruding from the cast on his left hand, his other hand resting gently on Jared’s still flat abdomen. His baby was in there. It was still sinking in. 

He’d staggered back to the waiting room, the gathered crowd mistaking his stunned expression as indicating the worse. He’d been pulled from his whirling thoughts of _we’re having a baby_ by their heartbroken gasps. He’d quickly relayed the information that JD had given him about Jared’s injuries to belay their fears. 

He smiled at his Momma’s perceptive, “There’s something you’re not telling us, isn’t there?”

He held out the picture, her worried expression transforming to one of pure joy. “Jared’s pregnant?”

He could only nod, his own smile growing. “Ten weeks,” he finally managed. 

“Holy shit. That’s awesome!” Chad crowed, thumping him on the back.

“Son, I’m so proud of you,” Alex gushed, wrapping Jensen in a hug.

Austin was quiet and Jensen could hear him thinking. “The baby’s okay, right? I mean, even after,” he waved his hand around.

“Yeah, the baby’s good. There might be some risk if Jared has to have more surgeries, but, as of right now, Daddy and baby are fine.” He took in his brother’s uncharacteristically reserved demeanor and wondered if being here was bringing back memories of when his wife, Tracy, was sick, but Austin’s face cleared as he pulled Jensen into a hug of his own. 

“That’s great, bro. I’m so happy for you.”

“Thanks.”

Dakota and Sandy’s squeals when they saw the sonogram woke the twins and they blinked blearily at the happy group giving Jensen congratulations.

“Papa?” Teddy yawned, small hands rubbing sleep from his eyes. “Is Daddy okay?”

“Sounds like it, buddy,” Jensen came over and scooped the boy from Chris’ arms. “He’s got some boo-boos that will take a while to heal and he’ll have to stay here a while, so we have to be patient.” Jensen wasn’t ready to tell the boys about the baby. He wanted Jared to be with him, wanted that honor to be theirs.  

“When can we see him?” Benji muttered grumpily, the slow waker of the two.

“Well,” Jensen sat next to Steve who still held Benji and situated Teddy in his lap. “Daddy is sleeping now and probably will for a while. They’ve got him in a special room that is real quiet so he can rest up. As soon as he’s done sleeping, I’ll bring you up there to see him, but it might be a few days.”

Tears fell down rounded cheeks as the boys cried for their Daddy, the pain of further separation after their earlier fear that they’d lost him forcing salt water to run freely. Jensen soothed them, drying their faces and eventually they’d drifted off back to sleep. Once news had come down that Jared had been moved to his room, Karen and Alex took the twins back to Jensen’s house.

“You gotta wake up, Jay,” Jensen murmured, brushing a lock of hair back out of Jared’s face. “There are two little boys that are waiting to see you.” He smiled slightly, “Not to mention this big boy that needs you, too.” His eyes watered, “I’m so sorry, Jared. I – I let you down. I should’ve…” He squeezed Jared’s fingers when words failed him and frowned at the hard, sharp press in his hand. He opened his fingers to see that hated ring still on Jared’s finger, that gaudy hunk of metal and stone that Timothy had put there staking his claim.

Jensen’s jaw clenched and he gently rotated the platinum circle on Jared’s slightly swollen finger until he was able to slip it off. He held the extravagant piece of jewelry in his hand then closed his fingers around it and shoved it in his pocket.  Anger and vengeance and hatred were going to have to wait, Jensen’s priority was getting Jared and their baby well, but after that he’d _make_ time. He pulled the chair beside Jared’s bed closer and sat down, leaning forward to put his hand back on Jared’s abdomen. The ring pinched his thigh through the cloth of his jeans, but he didn’t make any move to adjust it. It was his reminder of the things he still had to do and his promise that he would do them.


	20. Chapter 20

“You gotta wake up, Jay.”

“There are two little boys that are waiting to see you. Not to mention this big boy that needs you, too.”

_“Wakey-wakey, eggs and bac-ey!” Jared felt something prodding at his lips and he lifted a hand to bat the offending object away. He’d slept fitfully the night before – Timothy had been particularly rough, cruelly slaking his lust and leaving the painfully colorful evidence on Jared’s body – and he refused to leave the solace of sleep he’d finally found sometime near dawn. His dreams were his only source of comfort anymore, the one place where Timothy couldn’t interfere, couldn’t hurt him. Where he clung tight to his memories of Jensen, of before. His flailing wrist was caught in a steel grip and pinned to the bed next to his head, images of Jensen holding him on the couch, watching a movie, bookended by the twins in familial comfort, melting away like salted ice by the heated grip._

_Instinct kicked in before conscious thought and his other hand came up in defense, only to be caught in a similar grasp. He tried to sit up and discovered an immovable weight on his chest, keeping him supine while the nudging of his mouth continued. Blinking his eyes open, he saw Timothy sitting astride him, knees bracketing his shoulders and his leaking member nudging insistently at Jared’s lips. Jared turned his head away, pre-come smearing a slimy trail across his cheek. His lips were still bruised and cracked from Timothy’s harsh face fucking the previous night and Jared wasn’t sure if his mouth could take much more abuse._

_“Now, Jared,” Timothy cooed with a shark-like grin, knee shifting to hold down Jared’s forearm and freeing a hand to tangle painfully in Jared’s hair, “gotta open up wide. Father has needs and he’s a big boy.”_

_Jared clenched his teeth and forced his head as far away from Timothy’s length as he could, roots of his hair screaming at the increased tension._

_Timothy snarled, releasing Jared’s head with a hard shove. “Fine!” He spat, shimmying down the mattress and ringing his fingers around Jared’s bicep, strong digits lining up to the bruises already staining the skin. In a quick, smooth move that left Jared reeling, Timothy flipped him on his stomach and sat on the small of his back. “I’m a flexible man. You don’t want me to use your mouth,” He leaned forward and whispered menacingly in Jared’s ear, “then I’ll just find another hole to fill.” He scooted back, settling across Jared’s thighs, his fingers dancing down Jared’s spine, leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake._

_Jared’s heart trip-hammered in his chest, shudders wracking his long form as those digits spider-crawled lower and lower, their destination clear. As battered as his mouth was, it paled in comparison to his hole. He’d risen in the night, long after Timothy’s satiated breaths had deepened into sleep, and cried in the bathroom as he washed away the streaks of red from the inside of his thighs. His stomach churned in nauseous fear when the touch ghosted over the swell of his ass._

_Jared writhed on the bed, fighting for freedom and trying to unseat the older man, but the pain in his body made the movements weak. A broad hand pressed between his shoulder blades and his torso sank further into the mattress under the pressure._

_“Stay still,” Timothy growled, a dry finger delving between his buttocks._

_“Timothy, don’t,” Jared pleaded, words muffled into the pillow. “Please! I can’t.” He squirmed, earning a resounding slap to his ass before the finger began tracing the crack again, teasing his sore, swollen pucker with torturously painful circles._

_Jared bit the pillow to stifle the guttural scream that forced its way up his throat when the finger pushed mercilessly into him, searing pain shooting up his back and down his legs as the damaged skin was torn again. His body convulsed, agony electrocuting the muscles into involuntary contractions. The finger pumped into him and was quickly joined by a second, the movements becoming smoother as his blood lubricated the way. He buried his face in pillow, satin absorbing salt water and carbon dioxide with each gasping sob._

_His body froze at the tentative_ taptaptap _on the bedroom door. Above him, Timothy cursed and yanked his fingers free, wiping them across Jared’s back like a gory finger painting across the skin. Timothy rose, crossed the room and snatched the door open._

_Jared rose to his elbow, tears falling from the curve of his jaw as he swallowed a cry of pain. A small shadow, haloed by a square of light spilling in from the hallway, stretched across the floor from the open doorway and he could hear sniffles of need. He reached down and tugged on the sheet, unwiIling to let either of his children see what he’d allowed himself to become even though he felt certain whoever it was had heard._

_“What do you want?” Timothy bellowed and the shadow trembled._

_“H-he’s s-s-sick.”_

_Jared’s heart hurt at the small, frightened voice, almost inaudible in the graveyard silence. He’d foolishly believed he’d left that tone back in Atlanta when he’s secreted the twins away. In the background, the sound of retching echoed down the hallway._

_“Jesus, fuck!” Timothy stepped back, face twisting in a grimace of disgust. “Just go…somewhere,” he shooed the boy away, “I’ll send your daddy out in a minute.” He slammed the door without waiting for a response, turning back to Jared. “One of those green-eyed brats is puking his guts out in the bathroom.”_

_“Which one?” Jared rolled and, using the bed, pushed himself to a standing position, biting his lip to keep from groaning._

_Timothy moved to the chest of drawers and pulled out some clothes. “How the fuck should I know? They’re twins, for Christ’s sake. You can’t expect me to be able to tell them apart.” He tugged on a pair of pants and a t-shirt._

_Jared swayed on his feet, pain momentarily stealing his breath. He bit his tongue to keep from pointing out that Jensen could, after only six months, not only tell the twins apart on sight, but by their knock on the bedroom door or their footsteps on the stairs. Those remarks wouldn’t serve any purpose other than add to the aches already throbbing in his body._

_Timothy sneered at him, almost like he could read Jared’s mind. “See to your precious_ angel _,” he said the word with as much derision as he could. “He’s waiting for you. This doesn’t let you off the hook about this morning though.” Timothy made his way to the door. “I don’t care if you spend all day mopping up vomit, I expect you to see to my needs tonight.” He stepped into the hallway, calling over his shoulder. “Hurry up! It fucking stinks like puke out here.”_

_Jared slowly hobbled to the dresser, clenching his jaw as each step jostled his body. Digging through the drawers for a shirt, he shifted aside short sleeved ones in lieu of long-sleeved alternatives that would hide a multitude of sins. He lightly traced the bruise on his upper arm, his fingers following the mark left by another’s, then tugged on his shirt and went to see what he could do for his sick son._

The index finger of Jared’s right hand moved, stroking lightly over the sheet. The slow back and forth caught Jensen’s eye and he jerked back. “Jared? Can you hear me?”

“Jensen? Is everything all right?”

Jensen spun toward the door, half standing with the motion and forcing his chair back noisily, to see JD in the doorway. “JD! He moved! He – he moved his finger.” Jensen turned his attention back to the supine figure. “Jared, baby? Can you hear me? Jared?”

“Jensen, hold on a minute,” JD replied calmly, stepping into the room. “Let me check him over.”

Jensen stood beside the bed, fingers looped in those of Jared’s exposed from the end of his cast. He watched as JD examined Jared’s pupils and reviewed his vitals.

Sighing, JD looked over at Jensen, his face apologetic. “Jensen…”

“No,” Jensen shook his head adamantly, refusing to listen to JD’s placating words, knowing that tone and look. “Dammit, no! He moved. I saw him!” He looked at JD with pleading eyes, every ounce the scared three-year-old that once begged JD to give his vaccination shot to Austin. “He moved his finger. That means he’s waking up right?”

“Jensen,” JD started again, “I believe you.” Jensen’s face brightened only to fall again as the physician continued, “But you need to understand that coma patients sometimes move – muscle spasms and twitches. From what I can see, Jared is still firmly rooted in his coma. You need to prepare yourself. He might be in it for a while.”

Jensen crumpled into his chair, the adrenaline surge from his excitement washed away by JD’s words. Resting his elbow on the arm of the chair, he rubbed the skin between his eyebrows. He closed his eyes and sucked his bottom lip, releasing it with a small smacking noise as he shook his head forlornly. “Sorry,” he muttered.

“Don’t be sorry,” JD soothed. He watched Jensen for a few moments and narrowed his eyes. “What were you doing?”

Green eyes blinked open slowly and Jensen tilted his head to the side to see the doctor better. “What?”

“What were you doing when Jared moved his finger?” JD moved around the bed to stand next to Jensen.

“Nothing,” Jensen shrugged, shaking his head from side to side. “Just talking. Telling him that the boys needed him to wake up.” He sighed and rubbed his eyes, whispering. “That I needed him to wake up.”

JD scratched at his beard and hummed. “You know there is research that proves coma patients can hear things around them while they’re under.”

“You think?” Jensen couldn’t keep the hint of hope out of his voice, leaning forward to take Jared’s hand again.

“It’s possible that Jared responded to your voice, your words.” The doctor pulled a small notepad from the pocket of his lab coat and made a few notes before replacing it. Twisting the end of his pen and sliding it into the breast pocket, he looked over at Jensen and sighed. “You’re exhausted. Where are the twins?”

“With Mom and Dad,” Jensen answered on a weary exhale, eyes fixed on the sleeping man.

“You should really go home and get some sleep. Be with your babies,” JD tried sympathetically.

“I have babies here, too,” Jensen protested, hand trailing from Jared’s fingers to rest on his abdomen.

JD exhaled slowly, knowing he was treading on shaky ground. “Jensen,” he began tentatively, “Jared and the baby are stable – which is more than I can say for you, if you don’t let your body rest.”

“I can’t,” Jensen choked, fighting for control. “What if he wakes up and no one is here? I can’t leave them alone.”

“You know that I’ll call you immediately if Jared shows the slightest indication that he’s waking. The boys need you. Their daddy is in hospital and there is the possibility they watched the beating that put him there. Nobody knows where Timothy has got off to. They have to be terrified.”

Jensen closed his eyes again, tears threatening the corners. He felt torn, his heart at civil war with itself. Part of it wanted him to stay here, watch every expansion of Jared’s chest and hear every beat of his heart just to reassure himself that Jared was alive, but the other part wanted to go to the twins, scoop them up and hold them close. He nodded his head, splayed hand rubbing a soothing pattern over Jared’s stomach, over their child. He looked over at the clock above the dry-erase board detailing Jared’s nursing staff and reminding patients to _Call…Don’t Fall._

“Frankie and Robert should be here soon. I’ll…” he cleared his throat, “I’ll head home when they get here.”

“Good,” JD rounded the bed and squeezed Jensen’s shoulder. “I promise, I’ll call you if anything changes.”

Jensen nodded again, wrapping both hands around Jared’s casted hand and lifting it to press a kiss to the knuckles.

He spent the next hour mumbling nonsense into Jared’s skin – pleads and promises – until his sore, dry throat clicked with each swallow. He traced every contour, line and crease of those four exposed fingers until he’d tactilely memorized the landscape of each knuckle and nail. And through it all, the words and the caresses, Jared lay in motionless repose, face serene and body lax. Jensen lowered Jared’s arm to the bed, resting his forehead against the unforgiving fiberglass, closed his eyes and prayed.

“Jensen?”

His head jerked up, his forehead burning where the weaved pattern of the cast had impressed in the skin, and turned to see Robert and Francis Padalecki standing in the doorway, both looking travel weary and emotionally drained. He stood as they moved closer, “Momma Padalecki” coming thick and clogged from his suddenly tight throat, before he was enveloped in the slight woman’s fierce embrace. He tilted his face down, burying his face in her hair, the smell of her lavender perfume bringing tears of shame to the corners of his eyes. “I’m sorry,” he mumbled into the silky locks, repeating the words a few more times before he felt her pull slightly away.

She thumbed the tears from under his eyes and cupped his jaw, her hazel eyes filled with concern and motherly affection. “What on Earth are you sorry for?”

“I,” he flared his nose and blinked furiously to keep his tears at bay, “I didn’t protect them. I promised you I would,” he looked at Jared and whispered, “I promised him I would and…I didn’t.”  He shook his head. “I looked away for just a minute and gave him the chance to hurt them again.” His watery gaze met hers and a single tear fell down his cheek. “I’m so sorry.”

“Let us be certain that the fault lies with the responsible party,” Robert stepped up behind his wife and placed a warm, comforting hand on Jensen’s shoulder. “You are not the reason my son is lying here.”

Jensen shook his head irritably. “You don’t understand,” he protested. “You don’t know…”

“We know a great deal more than you think we do,” Frankie interrupted. “Chris picked us up from the airport. He told us everything that has been happening here lately. You did everything you could, honey. The only person who blames you, is you.” She stepped up to the side of Jared’s bed, hand petting down the side of her son’s cheek. “What did the doctor say?”

Jensen swallowed, heart stuttering at the dismissive forgiveness. He cleared his throat quietly and then began to recount Jared’s numerous injuries, listing them off as emotionlessly as he could. Francis and Robert’s eyes trailed over Jared, matching each cast and bandage to what Jensen was saying, and their faces grew more somber and paler with each passing word. Jensen hesitated over the last bit of news, wondering if he should wait for Jared to tell them, but decided that since practically everyone in town knew it was cruel to keep them in the dark.

“One last thing,” he paused, “Jared’s pregnant.”

Francis’ hand flew to her mouth. “Oh God! Pregnant? Is it…” her gaze flicked to Jared’s abdomen. “Is it _his_?”

Jensen shook his head. “According to the doc, Jared’s about ten weeks along which I figure puts conception before Christmas. The baby is mine.” He couldn’t keep the pride out of his voice.

“Oh thank Heaven,” Francis breathed, collapsing into the chair Jensen had occupied before their arrival, her shaking hands covering her face.

Robert’s arm came around his shoulders and squeezed him tightly.  “Congratulations!”

“Is the baby okay?” Francis’ voice was muffled by the tented fingers over her mouth and nose, her worried eyes taking in Jared’s body.

Jensen hurried to reassure them, telling them everything that JD had said including how the baby had probably saved Jared’s life.

Robert came over and placed his widespread hand on Jared’s stomach. “Aniolek,” he whispered reverently.

“Nasz aniolek,” Francis said, standing and covering her husband’s hand with her own. Jensen had no idea what they were saying – the extent of his Polish was the handful of cuss words that Jared had taught him – but it sounded reverential and worshipful.

The trio stood in silence for a long moment, the rhythmic beep of the heart monitor and soft whoosh of the ventilator loud in the stillness. Finally Francis pulled her gaze from Jared’s beaten face and looked at Jensen. So far she’d been fairly restrained about the news, mind leapfrogging from one worry to the next, and Jensen was unsure what to expect. He knew at Christmas time that she’d mentioned something about Jensen giving her more grandchildren, but he wasn’t sure if that still applied after the recent events. She and Robert might say that Jensen wasn’t responsible and they held him blameless, but he was having a hard time believing it.

“Jensen,” she said, a wide smile breaking out across her lips, “I’m so happy for you both.” She held her arms out and once again enveloped him in her warm embrace. Jensen melted into her as she squeezed him tight. “What did the twins say when you told them?”

“Haven’t,” he mumbled, breaking away from the hug with a sigh. “I wanted Jared to be there when they found out.”

Francis nodded, her smile dimming into a knowing one. She studied him, scrutinizing his features. Her hand was warm and dry against his cheek and her thumb eased the tightness from his puffy eyes with soothing swipes. “Oh, honey, you’re so tired. Chris said that Karen and Alex took the twins to your house. Why don’t you go home, see your boys and get some sleep? We’ll stay here with Jared.”

“You’re tired, too,” Jensen protested.

“Yes,” Robert agreed, putting a hand low on Francis’ back and motioning for her to sit, “but we slept on the plane.” He moved to the corner to retrieve a chair there and carried it back to sit next to his wife.

“We’ll be fine,” Francis insisted, setting her purse on the ground next to her. “Go home, shower, rest, tell my grandbabies that we’ll come by to see them later. If anything changes here, I promise you’ll be the first to know.”

Jensen nodded. Rounding the other side of the bed, he leaned over the rail and pressed a kiss to Jared’s forehead. He rubbed their noses together and hovered over the sleep slackened face. “Gotta go check on our boys,” he murmured. “Your mom and dad are right here and I’ll be back before you know it.” He kissed the corner of Jared’s mouth, oh-so-careful of the breathing tube. “I love you.”

Forcing himself away, he glanced at the Padaleckis seated vigil at their son’s bedside. “I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

“Take your time,” Robert insisted. “Get some rest. We’ll be here.”

Jensen took in Jared once more then made his way to the door, one purposefully placed foot at a time. In the hallway, he noticed Chris a few feet away talking to Penn. Chris tilted his head in acknowledgment and excused himself from the young deputy.

“Hey,” he greeted softly as he approached.

“Hey,” Jensen returned, a shaking hand dry-scrubbing his face. Ignoring Chris’ concerned look, he jutted his chin toward Penn and crinkled his brow in confusion. “What’s going on?”

“Due to our ‘close personal ties to the victim’,” Chris curled his fingers into air quotes, before crossing his arms over his chest, “the higher-ups have decided that the investigation and manhunt should be conducted by the Mesa County Sheriff’s Office.”

“Why?” Jensen shoved his hands into his pockets. “I mean I understand them not letting me near the case and could almost see them keeping you away, but everyone else?”

“Said something about our community being too tight-knit or too small. I guess they were afraid we’d attempt some form of good ole boy, vigilante justice,” Chris sighed, “and honestly, I can’t guarantee that they’re wrong. Jared’s family and the guys are thirsty for blood. We’ve basically been told to sit on our thumbs and let the Mesa boys handle everything. Jones said they didn’t specify where we had to be while we enjoyed our ordered anal stimulation so he assigned us to protection details. One person will keep watch over Jared and someone will guard the kids. Penn offered to take first shift here and Milo is parked out front of your house.”

Jensen glanced over at Penn who nodded and lifted a styrofoam cup of coffee. Jensen inclined his head. “Those Mesa guys gonna play nice?”

Chris just stared at him and Jensen had the overwhelming urge to scream at everyone to stop looking at him like he was about to fall to pieces. He might be hanging on by his fingertips, but he didn’t need everyone to point it out. “They’re a good bunch. They’ll be fair and, trust me, nobody wants this motherfucker to get away.” Chris unfolded his arms and cupped Jensen’s elbow. “Come on,” he urged Jensen along, “I stayed to take you home. We’ll talk more on the way there.”

“Nah, man,” Jensen said around a yawn, “I don’t want to put you out like that. I’ve got to go by Jared’s and pick up some things for the kids. They’ll need clothes and stuff if they are going to stay at my place for a few days and I’m definitely not letting them back into that house until it’s been cleaned. I’ll just drop you off at your apartment on my way out of town.” He dug into his pockets looking for his keys, fingers ghosting over the engagement ring that Timothy had given Jared.

“Looking for these?” Chris held up his keys to the Impala, closing his hand around them when Jensen made a grab for them. “It’s really not a problem, Jen.” He held up his hand when Jensen looked like he was going to say something. “Listen,” he shifted his weight uncomfortably from foot to foot, “you know how things are with my folks,” his eyes darted down to the floor like they always did when he talked about his parents, like Jensen wouldn’t be able to see the pain if he did. Chris cleared his throat and changed tactics. “Jen, your family, you, Steve, Jared, the kids…y’all are all I got in this world. Please,” he reached out and squeezed Jensen’s shoulder, his eyes imploring, “let me take care of my family.”

Jensen stared at his friend. He knew that Chris still carried around a shit ton of guilt over letting Timothy ever get his hands back on Jared and after last night he figured the weight had to be crushing. He’d heard Chris the night before, the _I’m sorrys_ mumbled while they waited for the paramedics not registering through Jensen’s frantic panic at the time but remembered in the quiet hours sitting by Jared’s bed – the uncharacteristic, near-silent prayers for Jared’s safety while they waited for news. He nodded his head jerkily and let his penitent friend lead him to his car.

The Impala rolled smoothly over the country lanes, her rumbling engine soothing Jensen’s nerves. Chris was behind the wheel after literally stomping his foot down during their heated debate over whether Jensen was mentally fit to drive. Right now, Jensen was internally thankful for his friend’s stubbornness as exhaustion pulled and tugged at him.

“Mesa County has been ordered to keep any findings regarding this case confidential. They are not to disclose the details or leads with anyone from Plains County.” Chris voice broke the silence and Jensen blinked to awareness, looking over at him. “However,” Chris’ lips turned up in a playful smirk, “apparently, Sheriff Ford over in Mesa and Jones have been hunting buddies since their daddies got them their first .410s in grade school.”

Jensen’s smile was wan but there and Chris considered it a win. They both knew that growing up in the backwoods being hunting buddies, especially after that long, practically made you family. “What’ve they got?”

“Not much so far,” Chris navigated the car down Jared’s road. “Their forensics unit’s been to the house, gathered evidence and took samples, but they haven’t been able to analyze anything yet. Ford promised to keep us informed.” He turned onto Jared’s drive and bit his bottom lip. “There is one thing you should know, though.”

Jensen watched the large two story house come into view, memories of last night forcing a shudder up his spine. “What’s that?” He asked absently, oblivious to his friend’s nervousness.

“They went by Matt Cohen’s hotel room to see if he knew anything or if Olyphant had been by.” Chris levered the gearshift into park and licked his lips.

“And?” Jensen prompted, Chris reluctance finally catching his interest.

“He’s dead,” Chris said calmly. “The Medical Examiner is conducting an autopsy for an exact cause of death, but from what Ford’s boys said, he was beaten pretty bad.”

“Shit,” Jensen breathed in shock, remembering the remorseful man who’d been to his house yesterday looking for redemption.

“Yeah,” Chris agreed, ducking down to look at Jared’s darkened house. “Working theory is Olyphant went there after leaving Jared for dead. Estimated time of death is somewhere around twenty two-thirty.”

“They got enough to actually pin it on him?” Jensen questioned, trying to erase the image of those sincere eyes from his mind.

“Think so,” Chris said, pushing open the driver’s door, the creaking groan loud in the still of the night. “Witnesses saw someone matching Olyphant’s description and driving a Mercedes at the hotel around twenty-two hundred. They also found that snazzy leather jacket Olyphant was wearing last night there…covered in blood.”

Jensen got out of the car and stared up at the clear, star-dotted sky. It was cold and he could see his breath puffing out with each exhale – March sizing up to come in like a lion and hopefully go out like a lamb. Jamming his rapidly numbing hands into the pockets of his worn jacket, he walked up the stairs to the front porch. Holding his hand out for his keys, the one to Jared’s house still dangling on the ring, he murmured. “Sloppy.”

“What?” Chris handed over the keys and cupped his hands, blowing on them to try to warm the frozen tips.

“Olyphant,” Jensen expounded, “he perfected covering his ass into an art form. For him to lose control like that, leave fucking evidence behind…” he trailed off, twisting the key in the lock.

“He snapped,” Chris shrugged. “Question is, what made him lose it?” He followed Jensen under the yellow police tape into the warm interior of the house.

Jensen snapped on the overhead light in the hallway, breath rushing out of him despite already having seen the destruction and carnage the night before. He absently noted that the rug was missing a few patches, blood encrusted swatches removed for DNA analysis. As far as he was concerned they could have taken the whole damn thing, along with the sleek furniture and sterile decorating accents. The majority of the debris that littered the floor had been collected, bagged and tagged by Forensics, and Jensen sifted the toe of his boot through the pieces that remained. He crouched down and picked up a section of plastic lying almost hidden beneath the ceramic shards of the broken lamp. Frowning, he stood and rotated it between his fingers, wondering where it had come from. The pad of his finger ran over raised lettering and he squinted his tired eyes to read the small words.

_PHONE LINE IN_

It was part of the answering machine casing and Jensen remembered seeing the smashed machine on the floor earlier.

_I left it on his answering machine last night. I don’t know if he got the message._

“The baby.” He curled the hard plastic in his hand, the jagged edges biting into the meat of his palm. He didn’t know if Jared heard the message but he would bet good money that Olyphant did. Another tick mark was added to the running tally in his head that proved this was all his fault.

“What?” Chris lifted confused eyes from his contemplation of the blood pattern on the stairs.

“Olyphant found out that Jared was pregnant again and must have realized the baby was mine. He’d been trying to knock Jared up for years.” At Chris’ confused look, he continued, “Jared thought Timothy believed another baby would cement his bond over him or some shit.”

“Twin sons didn’t do that already?”

Jensen shrugged. “Guess not enough. Couple that with his hatred of me…” Jensen waved a hand at the blood stains on the carpet.

“And he snapped,” Chris finished needlessly. “Jesus!”

“Yeah.” Jensen walked around the foyer in circles, rubbing his thumb over the piece of plastic, a worry stone for the modern age. He traveled from one blood stain to the other, mind unconsciously estimating the amount needed to create the blotches. Shaking himself out of the morose whirlpool his thoughts were threatening to pull him into, he dropped the broken section of plastic and moved to the foot of the stairs. He sighed wearily, hand reaching for the banister and pulling back reflexively at the last moment. “Can you check with Ford and see if Forensics has everything they need? I’d like to call and schedule a clean-up crew as soon as possible.”

Chris was looking around the visible parts of the house, eyes flicking to the living room, the dining room and through the open door to the kitchen. “I’ll, um,” he cleared his throat, “I’ll take care of it. All of it, cleaning crew too. Don’t worry.”

Jensen watched him kick the edge of the destroyed rug with the toe of his boot and nodded. “Thanks. I’m gonna go gather the kids’ things. Be right back.”

 

* * *

 

“Hey, baby.” Karen was sitting at his kitchen table, cup of coffee cradled between her hands. There were bags under her eyes that Jensen hadn’t seen since the night his Papaw passed. She stood and crossed to him, arms coming up and surrounding his shoulders in her familiar embrace.

A shudder started at Jensen’s head and flowed down his spine to his toes, the duffel with the twins’ things falling heavily to the floor. He’d held up at the hospital, stayed calm and strong, tears mostly kept at bay, but in his momma’s arms, her smell and warmth surrounding him, he broke. He buried his head in the crook of her neck, and heaved heart-wrenching sobs in to her vanilla scented hair. He clung to her and she held him tighter, soft cooing words of love and support murmured close to his ear. His hands fisted into the back of her blouse, needing something to hold onto, and when his knees threatened to buckle, she guided them to the cold hardwood floor and cradled him to her chest like she’d done so many times when he was little. The worry and fear poured from him in saline drops, soaking her shirt in his misery.

“It’s okay, dear,” she whispered, petting a hand through his hair. “Momma’s got you. You just let it all out. Momma’s got you.”

Jensen had no idea how long they sat there, but eventually he pulled back and swiped angrily at his eyes, embarrassed by his child-like display. “I’m sorry,” he mumbled, wiping his hands on his jeans.

Karen gently wiped the wetness Jensen’s perfunctory passes missed and smiled at him sympathetically. “It’s been a long couple of few weeks and a horrific few hours. Everybody has a breaking point. You’re allowed to cry, Jensen.” She chucked him under the chin, forcing him to look her in the face. “Especially to your mother.”

Jensen sniffled, tilting his head back, and let his breath out a controlled exhale. Licking his lips, he lowered his head and swallowed, composure sliding back into place with a roll of his shoulders. “Twins okay?”

“Took us a little while to get them down, which is understandable. They finally went to sleep a couple of hours ago.” She placed a comforting hand on his forearm.

Jensen covered her small hand in his and squeezed it slightly. “Thanks.”

“That’s what family is for.” Jensen knew it was so much more than an automatic response, it was a promise. A promise that anything Jensen would need in the upcoming days or weeks, Karen and his family would be there.

“Come on,” she hefted herself to her feet and urged Jensen up with a slight tug on this arm. “You’re dead on your feet. Let’s get you to bed so you can get back to Jared in the morning.”

Jensen got up and allowed his mother to lead him through the house. Passing the stack of boxes – his things from Jared’s house that he’d never unpacked, wishful thinking or some shit – he noticed a familiar, battered backpack sitting on top. He carefully picked it up, fingers brushing over a bleached spot along the zipper where Jared had once spilled developing fluid and it had leeched the color from the fabric. Lifting it to his nose, he inhaled deeply the lingering scent of Jared, infused into the fibers after so many years of use.

“The boys had it,” Karen said softly.

Jensen set the pack back on the boxes, thumb caressing the maker’s logo patch on the front. He nodded, smoothing his hand over the canvas once more before trailing behind his mother again. She opened the door to his bedroom and he had a brief moment of shame at her seeing the piles of dirty clothes he’d dropped on the floor instead of putting in the basket like she’d nagged him about his whole life. He opened his mouth to apologize, but his gaze landed on the two sleeping angels nestled under the heavy comforter on his bed.

The twins were wrapped around each other, fingers wrapped in the shirts that hung from the other’s small shoulders. Their faces were close, heads sharing the same pillow, and Jensen could see the redness lining their eyes and the puffiness of their cheeks.

“I hope you don’t mind,” Jensen startled at his father’s voice coming from somewhere in the darkness right before the man stood from the chair in the corner. “They had a hard time settling so I put them in some of your old shirts. They needed the comfort of your smell.”

“That’s,” he cleared his suddenly dry throat, “that’s fine. Thank you.” He stood in the doorway and just stared at two of the most perfect things in his life, transfixed.

“Good night, my love.” Karen kissed his cheek and nodded to her husband, leaving quietly.

“Come on, son,” Alex crossed to his son and took his arm. He led Jensen to the bathroom and sat him down carefully on the commode. Jensen’s eyes never left the boys as they moved, afraid he’d blink and they’d be gone, and remained focused on them through the open door. He sat statue-still on the toilet, just watching, not noticing his father kneeling before him and removing his boots and socks. Hands manipulating the buttons of his shirt pulled his attention from the slumbering seraphs and he looked down to see his father’s hands working each pearl circle through its hole. His gaze slowly tracked up to Alex’s face as his hands came up to take over his undressing.

Alex stood back and let Jensen finish disrobing, reaching into the shower to start the spray. He stood at the door, back turned to give his son some sense of privacy, and kept watch over his boys, on alert should one of them need him. Jensen undid the fly of his jeans, pushing the denim over his hips. There was a pinch as the fabric bunched around his thighs and he remembered the ring in his front pocket. Digging his fingers in, he pulled it free and held it between his thumb and forefinger, twisting it left to right to see the way the light reflected off the overly large gem. He set if on the edge of the sink and pushed his jeans the rest of the way off. The warm water felt like a luxury he didn’t deserve, not while Jared wasn’t there to share it with him, so he gave his body a cursory washing and quickly ran shampoo through his hair. Toweling off, he saw that his father had brought in clean boxers and sleep clothes. 

Jensen slowly made his way to the bed, his father hovering close. He stood at the edge of the bed and hesitated, wondering where his place in it was. Making a decision, he bent over and slid his arms under Benji, gently moving him away from his brother and shushing their whimpers at the separation. He rounded to the end of the bed and climbed up from the foot, slotting himself between the twins and wrapping protective arms around their sleep-warm bodies, pulling them close. His eyes almost immediately closed heavily, his tense muscles uncoiling.

So many people had told him that the twins needed him and now that he was here, with them, he realized he’d needed them too.


	21. What The Dying Man Wrote

_Thwang_

“Sshhh! Don’t touch it!”

“Sorry!”

Jensen twitched, his mind fighting to surface from his dreams. The soft, familiar whispers led him up from images of Jared, bloody and waxen, on pale carpeting, eyes closed and chest still.

_Thwang_

“Benji stop!”

“I didn’t mean to that time!”

Jensen forced his sore eyelids open, the lashes feeling heavy and gummy and his eyes, scratchy and dry. Teddy and Benji were on the floor sitting Indian-style in the corner where Jensen’s guitar sat in its stand. Benji’s inquisitive little fingers tentatively drifted up toward the strings again, eyes enraptured by the instrument, only to have Teddy’s reproving ones push them away.

“Stop, Benji! He’ll be mad!” Teddy’s voice was scared, trembling with his fear and Jensen decided he couldn’t stand the sound.

He quietly cleared his throat to work the sleep from his voice. “You know,” he yawned, “it’s polite to ask permission before touching things that don’t belong to you.” He kept his tone conversational, refusing to let any hint of anger or admonishment creep into the words.

“Papa!” Benji squeaked, body jumping back away from the guitar guiltily, while Teddy ducked his head to hide behind the curtain of his bangs, something he hadn’t done since Jensen had gone from ‘Deputy’ to ‘Papa’ in his mind. Jensen sighed and dry scrubbed a hand down his face. He was going to kill Olyphant with his bare hands.

Raising up on his elbow, he beckoned them closer. “Come ‘ere.”

Both boys ducked their heads and stood. “I’m really sorry, Papa,” Benji mumbled, starting toward the bed.

“I know,” Jensen consoled. “Bring the guitar. Hold it carefully,” he added when Teddy picked it up from the stand.

Teddy carried the instrument with the utmost care and stood beside his brother at the edge of the mattress, both with downturned gazes.

“Hand it here,” Jensen held out his hand, setting the guitar next to him on the mattress when Teddy passed it over. “Now, climb on up.” He patted the bed beside him.

The boys exchanged nervous sidelong glances before solemnly climbing on the bed. Their expressions made it obviously clear they felt they were climbing to their punishment.

Jensen rearranged the pillows, propping himself up against the headboard. He set the guitar in his lap, plucking out the pick snugged in the taut strings of the neck. “Teddy, come sit here,” he motioned to his left thigh, “and, Benji, you come sit here,” he pointed to his right.

The looks of apprehension on the twins’ faces were quickly replaced by curiosity as they hurried to get where Jensen had indicated.

Jensen settled the guitar across their laps – the neck in front of Teddy and the body resting on Benji’s legs – and circled his arms around their bodies to strum the strings idly. “Papaw Ackles taught me to play when I was younger than you. He’d learned from his dad and passed it on to me.” He took Teddy’s left hand in his and fit the small fingers over the strings at the neck, pressing them down and moving them as the song required. “I had a children’s guitar, a miniature version of his, and we’d sit together. He’d play and I would copy his hands.” He maneuvered Benji’s fingers until he held the pick correctly then engulfed the child’s hand in his own. “Like this,” he murmured, firming Benji’s grip on the pick and moving their hands over the strings.

The notes rang out clear and sweet as Jensen guided their hands. Twin smiles broke out across their faces and they turned happy eyes up to him.

“When Aunt Kota was born, I wanted to learn something to play for her. Papaw found this song and we practiced every day.” Jensen manipulated their hands – a melody appearing under their ministrations. He could see that they didn’t recognize the tune, their slightly awkward version half-time to how it was supposed to be played, so he sang along softly.

“Sunny day. Sweeping the clouds away. On my way to where the air is sweet.”

He saw the glimmer of recognition in their eyes.

“Can you tell me how to get, how to get to…”

“Sesame Street,” they chorused.

Jensen stilled his hands and leaned over to kiss their heads.

“Will you,” Benji bit his lip. “Will you teach us?”

“Of course, I will,” he answered gently, his heart fluttering at teaching the twins something his father had taught him.

“Maybe you can teach us a song to play for Daddy when he gets home?” Teddy eyed him hopefully. “It could be a surprise.”

Jensen closed his eyes and forced a smile on his lips to keep them from trembling. “I bet we could. I think he’d like that.”

“Is Daddy,” Benji turned toward Jensen and twisted his fingers in Jensen’s shirt, “Is Daddy okay?”

Jensen moved the guitar and shifted each boy until they were seated on either side of him. He tucked them close to his side, an arm holding each one tight. “Daddy’s doing fine. Doc Morgan is taking good care of him,” Jensen infused as much confidence and optimism into his voice as he could muster, hoping that if could convince the twins, he might be able to convince himself.

“Can we see him today?” Benji nuzzled his face into Jensen’s side, body burrowing deeper in search of comfort.

“Daddy’s still sleeping so he can get better. Remember?” They nodded their heads slowly. “When his body is healed some more and he wakes up, I promise to take you to see him.” Jensen rubbed his hands up and down their arms soothingly.

“I miss him,” Teddy’s voice broke on a sob and Jensen held him tighter. Tears soaked into the material of his t-shirt and he looked at the ceiling blinking away his own tears of sympathy and frustration.

The twins had been through so much – not only in the past two weeks but in their entire six years. The separation from Jared seemed too much to ask and almost more than they could bear. His mind searched frantically for something, anything, to ease their heartbreak.

“Hey,” he jostled their shoulders when a thought occurred to him. He waited for watery, green eyes to lift before he continued. “Why don’t you guys draw Daddy some pictures and I’ll take them up to his room. That way when he wakes up, the first thing he’ll see is your drawings and know that you love him.”

He waited as they traded thoughtful glances, breathing out an unconsciously held breath when they nodded.

“Good,” he enthused, “I think Dalton and Hunter left some crayons the last time they were here. Why don’t you go look in my desk in the office? There should be some paper in there too. Meet me in the kitchen when you find them and you can work on your pictures while I try to scare us up some breakfast.”

They nodded, both leaning over to kiss his cheeks. “We’re really glad to be with you, Papa,” Benji whispered before he and his brother clambered off the bed.

“Me, too, buddy. Me, too,” Jensen smiled at their retreating backs. He yawned and stretched then swung his feet over the edge of the mattress. He picked up the guitar, hand brushing over the brown sunburst finish, and reverently set it back into its place of pride. His fingers petted over the maple neck in a loving stroke. He stared at the instrument for a long moment, a fond smile tugging at the corner of his mouth, then turned to find clothes for the day, wondering what, if anything, he had that would make a suitable meal. He shuffled to the coffeemaker, trying to remember the last time he’d bought groceries, when he stopped at a note taped to the cover of the treasured appliance.

_Jensen,_

_Coffee is ready to go, just switch it on. Brought over some stuff to make breakfast. I’ll come over around nine so you can get back to the hospital. If you can wait, I’ll cook you something when I get here._

_Love, Momma_

 

Jensen smiled at the note, oddly touched at his mother’s thoughtfulness. He’d always known his mother was a kind, gentle soul – a helping hand to anyone in need – he’d just never had it directed at him. He pushed the START button on the coffeemaker and rummaged through the cupboards and refrigerator to see what his mother had left for them.

Chairs scuffed across hardwood and he turned toward the table, a box of pancake mix in one hand and a dozen eggs in the other. “Pancakes,” he lifted the box, “or eggs?” He raised the carton of eggs.

Without hesitation, the twins answered in unison, “Pancakes!”

“Your wish is my command,” he affected a little bow, replacing the eggs in the refrigerator. He set about mixing the batter and heating the griddle. Fifteen minutes later, he set a platter of fluffy, albeit deformed, pancakes on the table.

Benji forked one on his plate and frowned as he tried to figure out what the shape was supposed to be. “A flat tree?”

Teddy placed one on his plate and studied it carefully. “A paw print?” he asked, using his finger to trace the outline in the air.

“No,” Jensen laughed, scooping up a few of the flapjacks. Holding one up, he said proudly, “It’s a shamrock.” At their skeptical faces, he elaborated, “St. Patrick’s Day is coming up.”

The boys gave him unimpressed looks.

“It’s festive,” he defended. When they only quirked an eyebrow at him, he sighed. “Okay, so they need a little work to be as good as the snowmen. They still taste good, though,” he cut off a bite and moaned for emphasis when he popped the piece in his mouth.

Teddy rolled his eyes and dug into his food, Benji giggling then following his example. They ate in companionable silence, the only sounds were appreciative grunts and the scraping of utensils on porcelain.

As they dredged the last remaining bites on their plates through the puddles of syrup, a thought occurred to Jensen. “I forgot to tell you. Granddad Robert and Granny Frankie flew in last night.”

“Really?” They asked, once again in that creepy unified way.

“Yep!” Jensen answered joyfully, rising to clear the table. “Nana will be here in a little bit and she’s gonna watch you while I go check on Daddy. Then Granddad and Granny will come see you later this afternoon.”

As if right on cue, Karen walked in, kissing the twins on the head and shooing Jensen away from the sink where he was preparing to do the dishes. “Go get dressed, sweetheart. I got this.”

Jensen leaned over and pressed a kiss to his mother’s cheek. He hurried to the bedroom and threw on some clothes, doing the bare minimum of hygiene required to be socially acceptable. Now that someone was there to take care of the kids, Jensen’s heart and mind were focused on one thing – getting back to Jared.

Rushing back to the kitchen, he dropped kisses to both the boys’ foreheads and pecked another kiss to his mother’s cheek. He gathered the twins’ drawings and his car keys and ran out the door.

 

* * *

 

Jensen walked down the hall, the soles of his boots squeaking against the waxed linoleum, a tray laden with coffee balanced in one hand and paper bag in the other. As he approached Jared’s room, Penn stood from his seat next to the door.

“Hey,” he said quietly, infusing the one word with compassion and sympathy. A question by tone _– How are you?_

“Hey,” Jensen answered, the _I’m okay_ just as unspoken. “Brought you this from Sam’s,” he handed over one of the coffees, “and she threw in a bunch of bear claws.” He passed Penn the paper sack, letting the other man get a pastry.

“Thanks,” Penn sighed, sipping his coffee. “Everything’s been quiet. Only Doc and a nurse going in. I’ve checked with security a couple of times and no one matching Olyphant’s description has been spotted in or around the hospital.” He took a bite of the bear claw, eyes rolling back and groaning at the taste.

“Good,” Jensen nodded. “Jones relieving you?”

“Yeah,” Penn mumbled around a mouthful, taking a sip and swallowing before continuing. “He should be here…”

“Right now,” came the Sheriff’s gravelly voice from behind Jensen. Penn’s eyes widened and he quickly hid his pastry behind his back.

“Badgley, don’t be so fidgety. You can eat your damn breakfast. That is, as long as Sam sent me one, too.” The older man came to stand between them, brows raised expectantly.

Jensen huffed a laugh and passed over the paper bag and one of the remaining coffees. Taking a bite of his bear claw, Jones eyed Jensen, the younger man trying not to squirm under the scrutiny.

“You sleep any?” Jones pointed at Jensen with his cup.

“Couple of hours.” Jensen shrugged. 

Jones nodded, chewing thoughtfully. “Guess that’s the best I can hope for. Boys holding up?”

Jensen shifted his weigh. “I guess,” he sighed. “Hell, I don’t know. They miss Jared.”

Jones brushed the crumbs from his hands on his pants, reaching over to put a comforting hand on Jensen’s shoulder. “They’ll be okay, Jensen. Kids are resilient and those boys of yours seem to be in spades.”

“Yeah,” Jensen agreed, unconvincingly. He whole-heartedly believed the twins were made of tough stuff, but he knew that there was a breaking point.

“Trust me,” Jones squeezed the shoulder under his hand. “I’ve been around a while. The twins just need Jared to wake up. You’ll see.”

“They aren’t the only ones,” Jensen mumbled. “I’m gonna go in. Let Frankie and Robert get some sleep.”

Jones squeezed him one more time and smiling fondly, released him. “Tell Jared we’re all praying for him.”

“Thanks,” Jensen took a step toward Jared’s door when Penn’s hand on his arm stopped him.

“Jensen,” Penn looked unsure, nervous, “about Chad…”

“It’s fine,” Jensen reassured him, “he was upset.”

“Yeah, but I know he feels bad about what he said. He’d _never_ blame you. Like you said, he was upset. Jared’s like a brother to him.”

“Penn, seriously. It’s fine. I’ll talk to him.”

Nodding, Penn stepped back.

Jensen quietly pushed open the door and stepped into the dim room. Robert was asleep in the recliner, his long frame contorted to fit in a way that made Jensen’s back ache in sympathy. Francis was at Jared’s bedside in the same place Jensen had left her the night before and he wondered if she’d moved all night.

He padded to the other side of the bed, setting the last two coffees and the bag of bear claws on the rolling table. Jensen leaned over the rail and pressed a kiss to Jared’s forehead. “Good morning, sunshine,” he whispered into the skin, nose nuzzling Jared’s softly.

Straightening up, he smiled softly at Francis. “Sam sent coffee and pastries if you’re interested.” He jerked his head in the direction of the table.

“That was nice of her,” Francis’ voice was dry and thin. Whether it was from too much use or too little, Jensen wasn’t sure.

Glancing at the monitor suspended above the head of the bed, he took Jared’s fingers in his. “How’s he doing? Any change?”

“No,” Francis sighed, “the nurse comes in and checks on him every hour, gives him medication. She said his vitals are good, strong. The doctor should be in soon.”

Jensen looked at the woman. Her worry was written in the tightness around her mouth and the deepening of the fine lines around her eyes, the weight of it pulling her features and aging her youthful face. Jensen could also see determination in the set of her shoulders and hope glittering in her eyes.

“You should take Robert to Momma’s and get some sleep. I told the twins you’d be by this afternoon. You can take my car or if Penn’s still here, he can give you a lift.”

Francis looked like she wanted to protest, argue that her place was at Jared’s side, but her expression became sheepish. “It would be hypocritical of me to argue to stay when I made you go home last night, wouldn’t it?”

“That it would, my princess,” Robert stretched his cramped body and yawned loudly. “Let us see if young Mr. Penn can take us to the Ackles’ so Jensen can retain the use of his car.” He stuck his head out the door and mumbled a few words, getting a mumbled response in return. “Mr. Penn is kind enough to wait for us.” He moved to Francis' side and rubbed Jared’s thigh. “Rest well, son.” He placed his hand to Jared’s abdomen. “You too, aniolek.”

Francis stood, hesitation heavy in her movements. She glanced at Jensen. “You’ll call us immediately if anything changes, right?”

“I promise, you’ll be the first to know,” he assured her.

She bent over and picked up her purse from the floor. Twisting the strap between her hands, she stared at Jared.

“Come along, my love,” Robert urged her gently. “We’ll have breakfast,” he grabbed the coffee tray and paper bag from the table, “revive our bodies with some rest, revive our spirits with a visit to our grandchildren then come back tonight so Jensen can fret over leaving.”

Francis chuckled weakly, reaching out to lightly smack her husband on the arm. She kissed Jared’s temple, whispering words of love into his hair before allowing Robert to guide her out the door.

“Okay,” Jensen blew out a breath when the door closed behind them. “First, before I forget. The boys drew you some pictures,” he stripped of his jacket, pulling the hand drawn images from the inside pocket. Draping the jacket over the back of the recliner, he smoothed the sheets out. “I think Teddy’s is a dog and Benji’s looks like a car. I think we have a couple of little Picassos on our hands. You should really open your eyes and take a look.” He held out the drawings so Jared could see from his spot on the bed. Getting no response, he continued on. “All right, maybe later. I’ll try to scam some tape from the nurses so I can hang them up.” He set the pictures on the table and pulled the chair closer. 

Clapping his hands, he rubbed his palms together in anticipation. “What do you feel like doing today?” He asked the comatose man. “Poker? Nah, that’s no fun unless its strip and I think the hospital has some stupid policy about me getting you naked.” He shrugged in a ‘what can you do’ gesture. “Course, it might give the nurses a thrill. What about checkers?” He screwed up his mouth in thought. “No, wait, you cheat at checkers. How about some TV?” He picked up the remote, but didn’t turn it on. “You’re right. There’s nothing good on during the day.” He set the remote back down. “I guess we could always just talk. Tell me something I don’t know about you.”

Jared slept on silently.

“Not feeling like sharing?” Jensen settled back in his chair. “That’s okay. I got loads of stories. Feel free to wake up and chime in anytime.”

Jensen began recounting anything and everything that came to mind – childhood pranks both with and against Kota, the time he got caught kissing Devon Clancy beneath the football bleachers, drunken college stories with Chris, Austin telling him he was proposing to Traci, when Hunter and Dalton were born, how much he’d missed Jared during those years apart, how happy he was Jared and the kids were in his life now. All of it – the good, the bad and the embarrassing – in a rambling monologue. Some of the stories Jared had never heard, but most he had. If Jared was annoyed at the retelling, he didn’t mention it. Just laid there passively, the only movement, his chest rising and falling ten times a minute to the _whir-pop-hiss_ of the ventilator. Jensen carried on both sides of the conversation, anticipating and interjecting Jared’s responses in the appropriate places.

After divulging the time Chris got him drunk and he conned a guy wearing a giant tomato in front of a pizza parlor to lend him his costume then proceeded to dance around to “Baby Got Back” (Chris loved that one and Jensen had a sneaking suspicion that there was video of it somewhere waiting for the perfect opportunity to be unveiled), he paused to knead his tired eyes. Blinking away the spots he’d rubbed into his vision, he focused on the two drawings taped near the head of Jared’s bed. Earlier, when the nurse brought him a lunch tray, insisting he eat something, she noticed the twins’ pictures on the table. She quickly tore off several pieces of the medical tape dangling from scissors clamped to her scrubs and hung the sheets on the wall.

“You know,” He sighed, “our children complained about my pancakes this morning.”

Jared breathed.

“I know, right? Jensen exclaimed in mock outrage. “I’m the Ace of Pancakes! Okay, they grumbled more about the shape than the taste, but in my defense I’d never tried to make shamrocks before and pancake batter is not a real stable medium. I gotta agree they did come out a little misshapen,” he chuckled. “I was going to try bacon and eggs, but I was afraid I’d burn the house down.”

Jared breathed twice and Jensen chuckled again. “Yes, I remember the Almost Great Christmas Fire of Key West, but I still maintain that wasn’t my retardation in the kitchen as much as you distracting me.” He outright laughed. “God, the looks on our moms’ faces.”

He let the chuckle die out.

“I guess I’ll leave the kitchen to you. You’re like a god, a culinary god.” He paused. “Don’t be modest, you could make Betty Crocker cry.” He shook his head. “Kota, bless her heart, made a meatloaf last week and brought it over.” He scrunched his nose. “It was good, don’t get me wrong and it was sweet of her to feed me, but she doesn’t have your mad skills with an oven. It was like giving chopped steak to someone used to eating filet mignon.”

_The front door slammed, the pot holders hanging above the range swinging from the force, and Jared jumped. He quickly bent over, tugging the oven door open with a jerky pull to check the progress of dinner._

_“Honey, I’m home!”_

_Jared shuddered slightly at the snake charmer drawl. He shut the door and anxiously went back to stirring the gravy so it wouldn’t clump, a half watchful eye on the pot of potatoes threatening to boil over._

_“Jared?”_

_Jared turned, a strained smile barely curling his lips. “Timothy! You’re home early.”_

_Timothy eyed him suspiciously. “My meeting didn’t take as long as I expected. That’s not a problem, is it?” he asked, a harsh snap to his voice._

_“No,” Jared reassured quickly, shaking his head. “No,” he repeated, slower, forcing the false smile that had faltered under Timothy’s biting tone back into place, “it-it was just a surprise.” He turned back to the stove, stirring the gravy again and moving the potatoes from the burner when bubbled over water hissed against the cooktop. “Dinner should be ready soon.”_

_Jared locked his body into stillness when strong arms wrapped around his waist. “A good surprise?” Timothy purred in his ear, warm breath stirring the hairs at his nape._

_“Of course.” Jared was glad his back was to Timothy. With as much energy as it took to maintain the hint of cheerfulness in his voice, he knew he wouldn’t be able to keep his expression light. The timer beeped and Jared set the spoon down to silence the alarm. “Excuse me.” He pushed back subtly so he could open the door. Timothy merely moved with him and Jared barely suppressed a sigh. He grabbed two pot holders and bent over, Timothy molding to his back and making a pleased sound as he ground his semi-hard dick against Jared’s ass._

_Jared carefully removed the hot dish and set it on the waiting trivets he’d placed on the counter earlier, nudging the oven door closed with his calf. The arms around his waist tightened just shy of painful and Jared froze._

_“What. The Fuck. Is that?”_

_Jared tossed his glance around, trying to discover what Timothy was so upset about, finding nothing. The counters were clean, as were the floors, there wasn’t any clutter and everything seemed in its proper place. He flicked a quick look down at his clothes, worried he wasn’t presentable, but he had on the stiff jeans and green silk shirt Timothy’d bought him._

_“I asked you a question,” Timothy barked. “What the fuck is that?” he repeated, helpful index finger pointing out the offensive object._

_“Meatloaf,” Jared answered simply, not understanding Timothy’s complaint._

_“I can see that,” Timothy snarled. “What the hell possessed you to make meatloaf? I fucking hate meatloaf! I’ve accepted it as my lot in life to choke down your abysmal meals, but Jesus, Jared,” he sneered at the meal, lip curling in disgust._

_“It’s Thursday,” Jared offered in way of explanation, stopping short of elaborating that they always had meatloaf on Thursdays when he remembered the reason why._

_He made meatloaf on Thursdays because Jensen worked late that day catching up on paperwork to make sure he got off on time on Friday. Meatloaf was Jensen’s favorite meal and after an extra hour of pushing papers around so he could spend more time with Jared and the twins on the weekend, Jared wanted him to come home to something special. It was so ingrained in his routine, he’d made it without thinking._

_“What does that have to do with anything?”_

_Jared’s eyes widened and realization dawned on Timothy’s face. A deep, angry flush washed over his features and he grabbed Jared’s arms, hands gripping his biceps tight enough Jared’s fingers tingled from the restricted blood flow._

_“Listen, you little bitch. I suggest you remember who exactly owns your ass and forget about that pathetic loser cop of yours. You’re mine Jared!”_

_A flash of bold, reckless anger shot through Jared at hearing Timothy insult Jensen. He glared at the man darkly, muttering, “If I forget I always have the bruises to remind me. You might own my ass, but Jensen will always own my heart.”_

_Timothy’s eyes flashed and Jared barely had a moment to register it before pain exploded across his left cheekbone. He reeled backward falling against the counter, splayed arms knocking the cooling meatloaf to the floor. The glass dish shattered on the newly installed tile floor and meatloaf splattered on the cabinets. Staring at the marble countertop, Jared huffed trying to master his emotions._

_Timothy stepped closer, arms bracketing Jared’s body, hemming him in. “Possession is nine-tenths of the law, Jared,” he said, eerily calm. “You are here…with me. That makes you mine.” Straightening, he kicked a large shard of the broken glass. “Clean this mess up and then explain to your brats that they won’t get dinner because Daddy’s an idiot.”_

_“But,” Jared risked, “they’re children. They need to eat.”_

_“That’s not my problem, now is it? Maybe next time you’ll cook something edible, not baked Alpo. I’m going into town to find something to satisfy my appetite. Don’t wait up.” He spun around, leaving Jared standing in the kitchen surrounded by the detritus of the meatloaf, air heavy with the smell of scorched gravy, rubbing his reddened cheek._

Jared’s left eye twitched, the cheek scrunching up once and releasing. Jensen shifted forward in his chair. He licked his lips and exhaled a hopeful breath. “Jared?”

He waited a moment, hope waning. “Jared?” When he still didn’t get a response, he flomped back in his chair, a weary sigh rushing out of him. He scrubbed a hand down his face, Jeff’s words about muscle spasms zapping his strength.

 

* * *

 

 

Much like the night before, Francis and Robert showed up and Jensen reluctantly left Jared, thoughts of the twins the only thing propelling his feet toward the door.

Jones stood when Jensen emerged, a phalanx of Styrofoam coffee cups on the floor next to his chair. “Any change?”

Jensen shook his head and scratched the day old stubble lining his jaw, all talked out after essentially having a conversation with himself all day.

“Got something that might cheer you up,” Jones dug into his pocket and pulled a shiny badge out. He offered it to Jensen. “Got the call from Chicago a couple of hours ago. That hot shot lawyer of yours got all the charges dropped. Chicago PD is issuing warrants for Pellegrino and Olyphant for blackmail and coercion.”

Jensen nodded, taking the badge and clipping it to his belt, comforted by the subtle weight of it. “Thanks,” he murmured, “Gonna head home, see the boys before they go to bed.”

“Take care, son,” Jones clapped him on the shoulder, “I’ll keep a good watch on Jared. Chris is watching your place so get some sleep.”

“Night,” Jensen started down the hallway, stopping when Jones called his name.

“You know,” the older man began, walking toward Jensen, “just because you have your shield back doesn’t give you permission to go after Olyphant. Ford’s men are still in charge of the investigation. You get involved, he’ll have you arrested for obstruction of justice.”

Jensen stared at his commanding officer for a long time. “Understood,” he said tersely. “I won’t get in the way of Plymouth’s investigation.”

The two men gauged each other for a tense minute, a silent agreement assign between them. Jones finally blinked and his expression softened. “Get some sleep and say ‘hi’ to the boys for me.”

 

* * *

 

 

Jensen levered the gearshift into park and slowly got out of the Impala, groaning at the stretch and pull of muscles tightened from sitting too long siting in a hard chair. The house was dark save the bluish glow through the living room curtains. He pushed through the front door and paused at the archway to the living room. Teddy and Benji sat on the couch, bookended by Jensen’s parents, watching a familiar red car zooming by on the screen. He leaned against the wall, loathe to disturb the serenity.

Jensen had always believed his mother possessed some form of ESP – able to know when any of her children were up to mischief, sometimes even before they’d actually committed it – and was reminded of it when she turned to him, apparently sensing his presence.

“Jensen,” she said softly, rising to come over and envelope him in a hug. He melted into the embrace.

“Papa!” two sets of slim arms wrapped around his waist, small bodies worming between the mother and son from each side.

Jensen pulled back letting his hands drop to the twins’ back to tug them closer into his sides. “Hey, guys.”

The weariness must have echoed in his voice, his mother’s eyes crinkling in concern. He smiled weakly at her in reassurance.

“How’s Jared?” His father asked hesitantly, knowing how weighted the question could be. He hovered behind his wife, strong hand on her shoulder, giving her support so she could give Jensen hers.

“Good,” Jensen answered automatically. “Same,” he amended honestly with a shrug. “Still sleeping,” he added at the kids’ hopeful faces. Green eyes dimmed in disappointment and Jensen’s heart clenched painfully. Needing a change of subject, Jensen peered up at the screen. “What ‘cha watching?”

“ _Cars Two_ ,” Benji replied, brightening. “Papaw brought it for us. He got us _AirBuddies_ too, but we’ve already watched it.”

Jensen smiled at the boys then looked over at his Dad. A movie about cars and one about dogs – choices tailored to what each twin liked. Alex’s face was unapologetic and Jensen nodded his head, letting his gratitude shine through. Cupping the boys’ heads, scratching his nails through their hair to massage their scalps, he gently reminded them. “Did you thank Papaw?”

“Yes, they did,” Karen defended. She patted his arm. “Y’all raised good boys.”

“Jared did,” he corrected voice a hoarse croak.

Karen smiled sadly and touched Jensen’s cheek. “That he did.” 

Swallowing hard, Jensen looked up at the television, Mater’s smiling face frozen on the screen where Alex had paused the video when Jensen came in.  He scratched his finger through their hair again. When Jensen had walked through that door he wanted nothing more than to take a shower and sluice away the dozen hours at the hospital from his skin, but now he just really needed some times with his sons. “I’ve never seen _Cars Two_.”

Karen looked down at the twins. “What do you say I get Papa something to eat and you boys help get him comfortable on the couch? Introduce him to the new adventures of Lightning McQueen and Mater.”

Jensen allowed himself to be pulled to the couch, one twin nestling snugly against each side once he was seated. Teddy deftly worked the remote and restarted the movie, Jensen relaxing back into the cushions as the desk lamp hopped across the screen, valiantly trying to ignore the worried glances his father was shooting him from his place in the recliner.

A sandwich appeared in front of him, wreathed in chips, and he smiled thankfully at his mother. Karen settled on the arm of Alex’s recliner to watch the movie as well. Jensen lost himself in the animated tale, mind comfortably numb, entertained by the dancing shapes and colors. He nodded absently when his parent’s bid them goodnight sometime around the mid-point, but never turned his eyes away. As the climax drew to a close, he realized the chatter that had been an undertone to the dialogue had stopped. He looked down to see the twins sleeping peacefully, heads against his ribs and faces void of worry. Jensen leaned his head back, squeezed his boys tighter to his sides and soaked in the soothing comfort as the movie concluded and the credits rolled. When the main menu popped up, he thumbed the remote to turn the player off then wrestled first one then the other to bed.

Neither boy roused at being carried and settled, sighing softly as they were laid on the plush mattress. Tucking the covers around them, he kissed their heads and said his ‘I love you’s before heading to the shower to finally wash off the sterile smell of the hospital. 

Toweling his hair dry, he went into the kitchen for a beer. Draping the towel over his shoulders, he popped the cap off and took a deep swallow. He walked toward the living room, frowning at the unfamiliar taste. Tilting the bottle to read the label – some limited edition winter brew his father must have brought for him – Jensen accidentally bumped the stack of boxes containing his things from Jared’s house. He could never make himself unpack them so they’d remained a reminder of what he was going to reclaim.

The top box teetered, Jared’s old backpack sliding off to the floor with the box following. The flaps to the box opened when it hit the ground, spilling Jensen’s shirts across the hardwood. He knelt down, setting his beer on the floor, and began gathering the clothes. He pushed the once again full box to the side and gabbed his beer and the backpack as he stood. Plopping down on the couch, he tossed the bag on the cushion beside him with a tired sigh.

Absorbing the quiet, trying to find solace in the stillness instead of fear in the emptiness, he stared at the picture above his mantle, hoping the subject would further calm his chaotic mind, and drank his beer. He took a few more gulps, still unsure he liked the new flavor, then leaned forward and set it on the coffee table. He tugged the backpack into his lap and couldn’t resist holding it to his nose. The decade’s worth of Jared’s accumulated scent filled Jensen’s nose and he closed his eyes to let the smell fill the hollow places inside. Smiling, he unzipped the main pouch and dumped the contents out on the sofa beside him.

Five envelopes fell heavily on the cushion while a couple of sheets of loose papers fluttered lightly to land on top. He shuffled through the papers, brow creasing. Teddy and Benji’s birth certificates, a list of accounts with passwords. He piled the up and set them on the table next to his beer, careful to keep them away from the condensation ring around the base. He picked up the largest envelope, a letter-sized mailer, the corporate logo for a law firm in Atlanta embossed in the upper left hand corner.

He flipped it over and slid the stack of papers out. It was a will – Jared’s will – fully executed and dated October of the previous year. Jensen leafed through the stack, skimming over the legal jargon he didn’t understand until he came to the third page, stopping short at the sight of his name. Neatly spelled out in black and white, it detailed that all of Jared’s shares of CJ Productions were to go to Jensen. Brows raised, he turned the page nearly pulling it from the binder clip.

At the next paragraph, he sat back heavily, the documents falling in his lap. Jared had named Jensen as guardian to Teddy and Benji in the event of his death. Not Jared’s parents or his sister or his brother, not his Aunt Kelly or Uncle David or even Chad. _Jensen_. He was stunned to say the least. Jared had trusted him enough after a little over six weeks to give Jensen his children and knew that after that short of a time that Jensen would want them. Too bad Timothy could always have the will declared invalid and refuse to give up his rights to the twins. Running a hand though his hair, he sat up. He slid the stack of papers back in the envelope and went to set it on top of the pile he’d created, when something about Benji’s birth certificate, sitting on top, caught his eye. Frowning, he picked it up. He traced his fingers over the name – Benjamin Alexander Padalecki - throat tightening at the sight of his father’s name included; the date of birth – September 19 th; all the statistics the State of Georgia felt vital but didn’t find what had seemed so odd. He picked up Teddy’s. It was the exact duplicate of his twin’s except for the name: Theodore Joshua Padalecki. Holding one in each hand, he read and reread them. Shaking his head, believing he was just tired, he laid them down, intending to move on the other items he had left to review.

Eyes ghosting over the birth certificates one last time, the something strange still niggled at him. Realization hit Jensen hard, actually jolting him back a little. _Padalecki_. The twins’ last names were Padalecki. Jensen always thought they were Olyphant, the aliases Jared assumed when he moved to Wowakan never giving Jensen a reason to question their real last names. Individual first names – ones that only belonged to them – Ackles family middle names and the Padalecki surname. It seemed so right, so perfect. If only the documents weren’t marred with Olyphant listed as the father, Jensen could almost pretend the twins were his. He glared down at the father’s name line and his breath caught. He didn’t know how he missed it - hell, he didn’t know how Timothy had - but typed neatly beside Name of Father was Unknown.

Jensen reached out and grabbed his beer bottle, taking a long draw. He stared at the little word. If Timothy wasn’t listed as the twins’ father, he couldn’t contest Jared’s wishes in the will. He smiled, but it dimmed. Had Jared known that long ago he’d need an escape plan from Timothy? The thought churned his stomach and he set his beer down, the alcohol tasting sour in his mouth. When Jared woke up, they had some things to discuss. 

The only things left were the four remaining envelopes. Three had simple names on the front, one for each him, Teddy and Benji, and the last looked official, a logo comprised of initials in the corner, a return address in Washington DC, and a postmark dated three days prior. He carefully placed the letters intended for the twins to the side. Jared had meant those words for his sons and if, _if,_ something happened to Jared, Jensen would see them delivered. He’d only read them if the twins wanted him to. He cradled Jared’s letter to him between his palms, eyes following the slanted letters and rounded curves of his name in Jared’s familiar script. Taking a slow breath, he slid his finger under the flap and jerkily tore it open. Inside lay a simple, white piece of paper, six words bringing tears to Jensen’s eyes.

_Forgive me._

_I love you._

_Jared_

The hand holding the paper shook and his other flew to his mouth, muffling a sob into the skin. Jensen’s eyes fluttered to the ceiling and he shook his head. Jared had sacrificed everything unselfishly stayed with Timothy to protect Jensen and his family, gave himself to Timothy to save his children. He’d endured physical pain, fear and cruelty for the ones he loved and yet as Jared prepared for the ultimate sacrifice – Jensen had no delusions that Jared thought Timothy was going to kill him that night – he was asking for forgiveness.

Jensen stared at the last envelope with trepidation. He wasn’t certain his body or mind could take any more shocks. Deciding to get it all over with, he traded Jared’s note for the envelope.

It had already been opened and Jensen easily pulled the folded pages past the ragged edges. Flattening them against his thigh, he skimmed the cover letter, eyes widening. He flipped the pages, sentences jumping up at him. The papers fell from nerveless fingers and Jensen’s chest tightened, straining his already labored breathing.

He jumped up and hurried to the kitchen, blindly reaching into the cabinet over the refrigerator. The bottle was cold in his hand and the sound of liquid gurgling into a glass, welcoming. He downed a generous three fingers and let the burning slide warm and soothe him. Another two fingers, calmed him enough to go back into the living room and gather everything, gently putting them back into Jared’s backpack. He thumbed over the bleach spot, suddenly exhausted. He dropped the bag on the couch and trudged down the hall to his room.

The twins were on the bed wrapped around each other. It took little coaxing to separate them and insinuate himself in the space between them. He tugged them close, inhaling their warm, sleepy scents. 

He stared at the ceiling. The last two pages, had contained matrix tables – one labeled at the top with ALLEGED FATHER – TIMOTHY OLYPHANT and the other with ALLEGED FATHER – JENSEN ACKLES. The rows and columns were filled with numbers he didn’t have a chance of deciphering, words like LOCUS and indexes peppered throughout, but the bottom was all that was important. At the bottom of the sheet labeled with Olyphant’s name:

Based on genetic testing results, the probability of paternity of BENJAMIN and THEODORE PADALECKI is 2.13% for TIMOTHY OLYPHANT.

At the bottom of the sheet labeled with his name:

Based on genetic testing results, the probability of paternity of BENJAMIN and THEODORE PADALECKI is 99.99% for JENSEN ACKLES.

Probability of paternity…99.99%

Jensen felt a smile tug at the corners of his lips as tears pricked the corners of his eyes. He hugged his boys – _His_ boys – closer and drifted off to sleep.


	22. What the Living Man Said

Jensen woke the next morning feeling like he’d barely closed his eyes. Benji was a warm weight against his right side, but the blankets to his left were empty and cool. The house was quiet, the only sound the soft hum of the heat gently blowing through the ducts, and Jensen’s curiosity over the missing twin was quickly replaced by anxiety.

Slipping out of the covers and free of Benji’s sleep-warm body, he made his way down the hall in search of his wayward son. _Son_. Jensen had already considered the twins his, he’d earned the title “Papa” through love and devotion, but he couldn’t help the utter thrill that went through him knowing the boys were really his. He’d done that. Well, he and Jared. Little embodiments of perfection, part him, part Jared – a legacy of their love left in blood and bone and DNA, immortality housed in blonde hair and green eyes. 

He found Teddy curled up in the corner of the couch, chin resting on his bent knees, staring at the picture over the fireplace. Green eyes – the shape of which he’d recognized immediately as inherited from Jared, but had never dared to hope who the color came from – roved over the image, taking in every detail confined within the oak frame with a look of calm interest. Teddy’s face was the perfect external expression of how Jensen felt inside when he looked at the print.

“What’cha doing, buddy?” Jensen ran a hand over the sandy locks, bending to press a kiss to the boy’s crown.

Teddy shrugged, his eyes slowly trailing from the picture to Jensen. There was an age and world-weariness to those depths that Jensen longed to erase and vowed he would replace with joy and innocence. Jensen sat down next to the small boy, arm circling his shoulders. Teddy scooted closer, but Jensen could feel him refraining from nestling in. Leaning his head back on the couch cushion, he carded his fingers through Teddy’s silky hair as they sat together.

“I bought that when I lived in Chicago.” Teddy blinked up at him, eyes closing lazily as the fingers combed through his hair. “I was walking down the street near my apartment and I saw it in the front window of a gallery. It cost me two weeks’ pay, but I couldn’t resist.”

Teddy blinked once more then turned his gaze back to the picture. “I like it,” he said softly, forgetting his wariness and leaning into Jensen.

“Me, too,” Jensen responded just as soft.

They sat in comfortable silence, Jensen stroking over and through Teddy’s hair, lulling them into a hypnotic trance. Jensen thought Teddy had drifted off to sleep when the weight against him shifted.

“I’m scared.” It was said so quiet that Jensen almost missed it, the words coming out more of an exhale.

Jensen rolled his head and glanced down at Teddy, waiting to see if he had more to say. Teddy stared straight ahead at the picture, eyes glazed with drowsiness and fists bunched around the fabric of his sleep pants, twisting it. Jensen rubbed his hand up and down Teddy’s arm.

“I’m afraid,” Teddy bit his bottom lip, “I’m afraid Father is going to hurt us. I heard Nana and Pawpaw talking. They said no one knows where he is. What if he comes back and hurts Daddy again? Or you? Or us?” Teddy’s words flowed faster as his unease grew. He pulled away and faced Jensen. “What if he comes and takes us away?” He whispered, breathing speeding up and little chest pistoning jack rabbit fast with fear.

“Teddy,” Jensen reached out, body aching to comfort.

Teddy pulled back, eyes wide and pupils blown as the fear took hold. “He could come in and steal us! I don’t want to go with him!”

“Teddy,” Jensen cupped Teddy’s face in both hands, forcing the terrified boy to still and focus on him. When Teddy didn’t calm, Jensen gently shook his face. “Teddy, look at me.” Liquid green eyes reluctantly lifted to Jensen’s face. “I’m not going to lie to you. It’s true. I don’t know where your F-,” he licked his lips, “where Timothy is, but believe me when I tell you, he will never take you away from me.”

“He’s mean, Papa,” Teddy argued, tears sliding over his cheeks, “and he hates you. He’d get mad if we talked about you. He could try to take us just to be mean to you.” Teddy shuddered.

“Not. Gonna. Happen.” Jensen tugged until Teddy was seated in his lap, his arms wrapped around the frightened boy.

Teddy buried his face in the crook of Jensen’s neck. “Sometimes, I wish he wasn’t my father.” He mumbled the words into Jensen’s skin, quiet like a shameful confession, gripping handfuls of Jensen’s shirt in a plea for absolution.

Jensen petted down his back. “What would you think if,” he hesitated, eyes falling to the manila envelope on the table, “if I was your father?”

Teddy lifted his head and looked at Jensen, eyes serious. “You can’t be my father.”

Jensen’s stomach plummeted, his throat closing over the lump caught there. “T-teddy.”

Teddy nestled his head back into Jensen’s chest. “You’re my _Papa_ ,” he stated matter-of-factly, oblivious to the swell of relief his words had caused.

Jensen relaxed back into the couch cushions. They sat in silence, staring unseeingly at the picture above the mantle. Jensen didn’t know how long they were there and startled at a small sniffle from the end of the couch. Benji looked impossibly small; the confident, exuberant child, pale and drawn, hands clutched around the paw of Deputy Bear. 

Jensen lightly patted Teddy’s side as he leaned forward, the little boy taking the silent request and sliding off his lap to sit on the cushion beside him. Jensen held out a hand toward Benji, the boy knuckling his tired eyes with his free hand. “You okay, buddy?”

“Woke up alone.”

“Aww, sorry, Benj,” Jensen moved over further, hand still outstretched to the groggy child.

“I want Daddy,” Benji whined, pleading eyes staring at Jensen.

Jensen sighed quietly. He’d been expecting this. The twins were great and had taken everything so well, but in all honesty, there _were_ only six. Jensen felt Jared’s absence like a physical ache and he still got to see Jared every day, touch him. He couldn’t imagine what it was like for the twins. “Come here.” Jensen gently wrapped his hand around Benji’s arm and urged him closer.

“No,” Benji yanked away. “I want my Daddy!”

“Benji!” Jensen was more surprised than angry. 

Teddy sat up, round eyes conveying his own shock at the outburst. “Benji?”

“Shut up, Teddy!” Hot tears trailed down Benji’s cheeks and Teddy visibly reeled from the harsh tone and his brother’s anger directed at him. “You don’t care that Daddy’s hurt. You’re just happy ‘cause Father’s gone.”

“Take it back!” Teddy lunged over Jensen at his brother, the older man just barely catching him by the shoulders before he could vault his lap entirely. Teddy’s small frame was shaking with mingled fury and grief and Jensen could make out the whispered, “I love my Daddy!”

Setting Teddy back on the couch, Jensen tried to soothe him. “Of course, you love your Dad. Of course.” He glanced over at Benji and tried to temper the anger in his eyes. It was one thing for Benji to be mad at him. Jensen felt he deserved more than the twins’ anger, but he wouldn’t stand for Benji to hurt Teddy that way. “That was mean, Benji. Apologize to your brother.”

“No!” Benji screamed. “You can’t tell me what to do. You’re not my Daddy.” His face was flushed red, eyes glistening with unshed tears, but the words were calm and low. Venomous poison designed specifically for the intended target.

“Benji, calm down.” Jensen could feel tears clouding his own vision as he swallowed down the pain Benji’d inflicted and tried not to return the hurtful words in kind. 

“Take me to my Daddy! I want my Daddy!” Benji stamped his foot down, the impact dampened by the thick rug covering the hardwood floor.

“You know I can’t do that.” Jensen spoke in a measured manner, emotion tightly reined in. His already frayed nerves were coming unraveled and his tested patience was waning.  

“I hate you,” Benji hissed, running down the hall, Deputy Bear falling to the floor to be trampled under sock-clad feet. At the end of the hall, the door to Jensen’s bedroom slammed shut, the pictures on the wall swinging on their nails.

Jensen heard Teddy’s stuttered exhale, his own echoing it. He swallowed hard and took a steadying breath. He felt overwhelmed, out of his element. He’d known the boys for six months, been a parental figure for half that. He had no clue how to deal with this. Whatever made him think he could do this?

“Don’t be mad,” Teddy begged, plucking the sleeve of Jensen’s shirt lightly with fear in his eyes. “Please! He didn’t mean it.” Teddy’s lower lip trembled as he stared down the hall where his brother had gone. 

“I’m not mad.” Jensen shifted closer, enveloping Teddy in a hug. His knee bumped the manila folder on the coffee table, knocking it to the floor.

“He didn’t mean it,” Teddy repeated, “He just misses Daddy. I promise we’ll be good boys.” Teddy’s body was stiff in Jensen’s arms, shivers vibrating the form. 

“Teddy, you are good boys,” Jensen assured. “I know he didn’t mean it. It’s okay to be angry. I’m angry.” Teddy’s shivers progressed into full shakes at that. “We just need to find a better way for him to express it.”

“So you _are_ mad?” Teddy tried to curl into a ball in Jensen’s lap.

“Yeah, I am.” Jensen confirmed, gently keeping the twin from hunching inward. “Not at you or your brother or your Dad, though. I’m mad at the situation. I’m mad that your Dad is sick and can’t be here with us, I’m mad that you and Benji are hurting and I’m mad that Timothy did all this, but not at you boys or Daddy. Never y’all. And I promise,” he held the boy closer, “there is nothing in this world that y’all could ever do or say that would make me hurt you.”

“Father used to say that.”

“Well, I’m not Father. I’m Papa. Remember?” 

Teddy was quiet for a brief moment. “I miss Daddy,” he sniffled, quietly.

“Me too.” Jensen stared at the folder over Teddy’s head, remembering the contents. There were the papers that showed he was the boys’ father, but it wasn’t those sheets that were calming his nerves and warming his heart. It was Jared’s will that was restoring his confidence. Jared believed that Jensen would be a good Dad to his sons, _their_ sons. Jared believed in him, believed he could do this. He hugged Teddy tighter. The sound of breaking glass pulled him to the edge of the couch. “I should go check on your brother.” He kissed Teddy’s head. “You gonna be okay for a minute?”

Teddy nodded his head, sitting on the cushion, arms releasing Jensen’s body. Jensen smoothed a hand down Teddy’s cheek and smiled encouragingly. “That’s my boy.”

Jensen could hear the snarled words before he ever opened the door, the sound of more glass breaking propelling his the last few feet. “Benji?!” He flung the door open and let out a short-lived sigh of relief to find Benji whole and unharmed.

Benji was at his dresser, shoulders heaving as his breath huffed out of him in raging bull snorts and narrowed eyes glared at his own reflection in the mirror. “Leave me alone! You’re not my Daddy!” Small fingers wound around the silver dish on the dresser that Jensen emptied the spare change from his pockets into and flung it across the room, the metal thudding against the wall and coins raining down on the floor. “I want my Daddy!” A die-cast replica of the Impala, a baseball signed by Nolan Ryan, his cell phone charger and his wallet flew through the air in rapid succession, meeting similar fates, resounding off different walls and leaving behind evidence of Benji’s tantrum in the scuff marks on painted plaster. 

Jensen witnessed the carnage in shock, absently noticing that the only the lamp remained on the nightstand and wondering what end his cell phone had met. A flash of movement registered out of the corner of his eye and Jensen barely caught Benji around the middle – the young boy’s eyes dark and intent – before he could reach Jensen’s guitar. “Oh, no you don’t.” He scooped the twin up and held him close to his chest.

“Put me down!” Benji wriggled then reared back and hit Jensen in the face.

Jensen’s head snapped back with the impact, more from shock than the actual force used. Benji’s eyes went round with surprise and his apple cheeks paled to a ghostly white. They stared at each other in mutual disbelief over what had just happened until Jensen saw the surprise in Benji’s expression morph into something akin to fear. The body in his arms writhed and squirmed in earnest, terror-stoked adrenaline fueling the movements and making it hard for Jensen to keep his hold. When Jensen refused to release him, fright eclipsed common sense and good judgment. Benji’s fists fell fast and hard against Jensen’s back, shoulders and arms, a litany of squeaky “Let me go! Please don’t hurt me!” pouring from trembling lips at near incomprehensible speeds. 

Jensen was unsure what to do. He could feel the itch of his own anger prickling at the base of his neck and warming his blood as he surveyed his damaged and destroyed things, felt the sting on his cheek. His rational mind reasoned with his emotions – Benji was lashing out how he’d been taught, imitating Timothy’s physical form of a coping mechanism - cooling them and allowing his thoughts to calm. Jensen carried the boy over to the bed, maneuvering the resisting body until Benji straddled his legs, facing his chest. Dodging still flailing limbs, he managed to wrap his arms around Benji’s pinning them to against their sides, effectively using his body as a flesh and bone straightjacket. Benji arched his back, bucking against the tight embrace and screaming his anger into Jensen’s chest. Jensen rocked them back and forth on the bed, humming softly, and heart breaking as yelling became crying that finally settled into sobbing. His toe nudged the frame of a picture that had once sat on the nightstand, apparently one of the first items to suffer Benji’s rage. The image of Jared and the boys smiling up beneath shattered glass, the image nicked in places from the sharp edges, seemed too symbolic and Jensen closed his eyes.

The hands that had been swinging at him in anger were now clutching at him in need, hateful screams now apologetic murmurs. Benji calmed in increments, breaths evening out but hands maintaining their death grip. Jensen continued to rock back and forth, soothing words and cooing sounds falling from his lips without thought. Finally feeling the fight wane and Benji’s energy drain, Jensen relaxed his arms and let the boy pull back far enough to face him. 

“I’m sorry, Papa.” Benji’s voice was whisper-soft and emotion-thick. Green eyes full of regret and sorrow blinked at him. “I don’t hate you.”

“I know, buddy.” Jensen would never admit to Benji how much his careless words had wounded, slicing into his flayed heart. Emotions too large for someone so young had fueled them, the need to bleed off some of the hurt had allowed them to pour forth, and Jensen couldn’t hold the boy accountable, especially seeing how sorry he was for saying them.

“You gonna p-p-punish me?”

Jensen was quiet for a moment, carefully considering his response. He knew that what Benji was expecting as punishment and Jensen needed the boys to see that there were other ways to deal these circumstances. “I think your behavior deserves some kind of discipline. You showed your temper, broke my things, hit me,” Jensen paused leveling a disapproving look at the boy. “Do _you_ think you should be punished?”

Benji lowered his head, shame flushing his neck and face. “Yes, sir.”

“Good, we agree,” Jensen tucked a finger under Benji’s chin and with gentle pressure raised it so their eyes met. “What do you think your punishment should be?”

He could clearly read the confusion in Benji’s eyes, the suspicion that the question was a cruel trick. “Whooping?” The answer lilting into a question at the end as Benji tried to guess what Jensen wanted to hear.

“Okay, here we disagree,” he said evenly. The little boy’s body tensed under his hands, preparing for the worst. “I was thinking more along the lines of you clean up the mess you made to start. Then you do chores at the farm, without complaint, for the next month to pay for the items you broke.”

“That’s it?” Benji sounded suspicious, wary over a deal that seemed too good to be true.

“You may not think you got off so easy once Uncle Austin puts you to work,” Jensen smiled slightly, “but you’re right. There is one more thing.” 

The wariness in Benji’s eyes turned into out and out mistrust. “What?” He asked slowly.

“You have to go apologize to Teddy. You really hurt him.”

Benji climbed down from Jensen’s lap and made his way down the hall. Jensen stayed long enough to gather up the broken frame and shards of glass before following. He found the twins huddled together, Benji begging forgiveness and Teddy easily granting it. Relieved, he went into the kitchen and dumped the debris in the trash can.

 

*****

 

Benji worked to set the bedroom right while Teddy helped Jensen make breakfast. The meal was subdued, Benji’s blotchy face clearing under the concerned stare of his brother. They turned in unison as the back door opened and Austin came in followed by Genevieve, Dalton and Hunter.

Jensen quirked an eyebrow at his normally rambunctious nephews, standing off to the side. They darted nervous glance at the twins as if sizing them up and Jensen realized Austin must have talked to them about overwhelming the twins.

“What’s up?” Jensen carried his plate to the sink, smiling his thanks when the twins followed suit.

“We were, uh, we were going to go hiking out at Brambly Park today and thought TJ and Benji might want to come along.” The cheerfulness was little forced, but Jensen was grateful regardless.

 “Sounds good to me.” Jensen tried to smile encouragingly, hoping the effort was semi-believable. “What do you guys say? Wanna go hiking with Hunter and Dalton?”

The twins hesitated, looking to each other before they nodded.

“Why don’t you go brush your teeth and get dressed?” He shooed them down the hall. Hunter and Dalton trailing after with a running dialogue about the trails at the park.

Jensen waited until he heard the door the bedroom snick shut, muffling Dalton’s description of the hidden waterfall, then sagged back against the counter. “Thanks. I think they could use the distraction. We’ve had kind of a rough morning.”

“Anytime.” Austin dismissed the gratitude. He shifted his legs, accidentally kicking the garbage can next to him. The glass shifted in the bag, tinkling softly. Austin reached down and retrieved the damaged frame. “Anything you want to talk about?”

Jensen tipped his head back and faced the ceiling. The sigh was so deep it felt like it originated from somewhere around his toes. “They’re just so young and have been through so much. Jared’s not here. They need their Dad and I’m not him.”

Austin nodded and pursed his lips. “One or both?”

“One or both what?”

“Did only one of them have a fit or did they both?” Austin bent over to place the frame back in the garbage can.

“You knew this was going to happen?” Jensen dropped his head to face his brother, arms folded over his chest.

“Had a feeling it would,” Austin conceded. “So, Teddy, Benji or both?”

“Just Benji,” Jensen admitted, feeling like he was betraying the kid by saying it out loud. 

“Teddy probably will too before it’s over and done with, so don’t be surprised.” 

Jensen considered Austin with narrowed eyes. “Did Dalton and Hunter,” he let the question trail off, but knew that Austin understood.

“Hunter was so little,” Austin shook his head irritably, eyes distant in memories of the past. “He didn’t understand why Tracie had to be gone so much or why when she was home, she couldn’t play with him like before. He had his meltdown the second time she was admitted, I think.” Genevieve moved closer to him and laced their fingers together, squeezing Austin’s in silent support. “Dalton held up all through her sickness. He finally reached his point when we were laying out his suit for the funeral.” He turned to Genevieve when she squeezed his fingers again, gracing her with a soft smile.  

Jensen frowned at the linoleum. “I wish…I don’t even know what I wish. I guess that I could help them understand why they can’t be there or, fuck, just take them to see their Dad.” 

“They’ll be okay, Jensen. Things are just really hard right now.” Turning worried eyes on his brother, Austin asked, “How are you feeling?”

Jensen snapped his mouth shut on the deflective automatic answer that was working its way past his vocal chords. “Like there’s not enough of me to go around. Like a failure,” he answered honestly, shrugging.

“Jensen,” Austin’s voice was low and pained, “you’re not failure. Trust me.”

Jensen knew that out of all his family and friends that Austin probably understood how he felt the most.  That torn-in-half feeling as the need to be with your loved one warred with the desire to be with your children. That urgent need to be in two places at once and only being at either half the time. Austin had once told Jensen, late at night when visiting hours were over and the kids long asleep, that in trying to be everywhere that he was never really anywhere. When he was at the hospital, holding Tracie as the cancer and treatments ravaged her body, his mind constantly worried about his sons and when he was home with them, he was plagued with guilt over leaving his wife to suffer alone. Jensen had known Austin was doing the best he could – burning his candle at both ends while trying to figure out a way to light the middle as well – and couldn’t understand how Austin saw himself as failing. Now, pulled apart and spread then, Jensen got it.

Both men were lost in quiet thoughts, Genevieve finally rousing them. “You want us to take them back to Austin’s later or bring them here?”

Jensen sighed. “Y’all mind keeping them at yours so they can play? It might take their mind off things. They don’t have any toys here so all they do is sit around missing Jared. I can pick them up on the way home from the hospital.” It all came out in a rambling breath, the sensation of imposition heavy in his stomach and on his tongue.

Austin clapped him on the shoulder. “Wouldn’t have offered if we didn’t want to.”

Jensen reached up and squeezed Austin’s bicep, the simple gesture conveying everything Jensen was feeling. “Thanks.”

“You’re welcome, dude.” Austin’s hand slid to Jensen’s cheek, pushing his head good-naturedly. “Just be sure to tell Jared we miss him.”

“Will do.”

 

*****

 

Jensen entered Jared’s room, after a few words with Sheriff Jones and Welling, who was coming on duty. Mesa County had processed the crime scene at both Jared’s house and Cohen’s hotel room. Evidence was being analyzed and despite what TV led you to believe, lab results didn’t come back quickly and Skye, Mesa’s forensics specialist, was definitely not Abby Schuto. The APB on Olyphant and the BOLO on his car hadn’t turned up anything either. The one piece of good news was they were able to put a freeze on all Olyphant’s accounts. It was harder to run without the financial means to hide.

Jensen nodded to Francis and Robert and set the case he was carrying on the floor by the door. He quickly moved to Jared’s side and kissed his forehead. “Good morning, sunshine,” he whispered into the skin. Lifting up, he looked at Jared’s parent expectantly. “Anything?”

“Just more the same, I’m afraid,” Robert answered softly, squeezing the arm he had wrapped around his wife. 

Disappointment dimmed the light of hope in Jensen’s eyes and he nodded jerkily, looking at Jared’s slack face.

“He’s going to wake up,” Francis said firmly, voice confident and broking no argument. “That bastard took enough from our family,” she smoothed a hand down Jared’s chest. “I refuse to let him take Jared as well.”

Strangely, it hit Jensen for the first time that – yes, Jared was the twins’ father and his everything, but he was also Francis and Robert’s son. They felt the pain just as keenly. He clasped his hand over hers, pressing them to Jared’s heart. “I promise, I will find him and make him pay.”

“Do the police have any leads?” Robert asked.

“Not much more than they did yesterday. They are going over the crime scene evidence and from what I understand every police department, Sheriff’s office, highway patrol, security guard and mall cop in the state is looking for Timothy. It’s just a matter of someone seeing him. It’s turned out to be one of the biggest manhunts in Colorado history.”

“I want him to hurt, Jensen. I want him to suffer for what he did,” Francis’ eyes were deadly serious, “and I want to do it. I want to watch the light go out in his eyes. He hurt my baby, my Jared. For _years._ Jared! The kid who’d beg me to buy him the damaged stuffed animals because he said nobody would buy them and he didn’t want them to feel sad.” Jensen watched as her bloodlust gave way to heartbreak. “He had a room full of toys that were missing eyes or noses. How could Timothy hurt somebody like that?” She flicked a pleading gaze from one man to the other. “I don’t understand. Tell me! Why’d he hurt my baby?”

Jensen was at a loss for words and apparently so was Robert. Robert pulled her close to his chest, hands rubbing her back as he pressed loving kisses to her hair.

“He won’t get away with it.” Jensen’s conviction dripped from every word. “He’ll be tried for murder and Colorado has the death penalty.” That was if Jensen didn’t find him first – he’d save the court’s time and the taxpayer’s money.

Francis scoffed, wiping the tears from her cheeks with trembling fingers. “Lethal injection is too good for the likes of him. Drawn and quartered might be nice.”

“Frankie!” Robert admonished, thumbing away a stray tear she’d missed. “What a barbaric suggestion. We live in a civilized society.” Francis stared at him stunned and Jensen understood – drawn and quartered sounded good to him. “There’s a world of options now at our disposal,” Robert continued. “From what I hear exposure to hydrofluoric acid is an extremely painful way to die and it takes days.”

At Jensen and Francis’ faces, he shrugged. “I had a heart attack. Weeks of nothing but Google and the Discovery Channel.”

Jensen blinked away his shock and shook his head, making a mental note to never piss off the Polish man. Francis stared on open-mouthed. Whether she was impressed or horrified at the idea, Jensen wasn’t sure.

“What?” Robert asked, defensively.

“Nothing,” Francis answered as a slow smile spread across her lips. “Who knew that beneath the gentle exterior of my Prince Charming,” she patted his chest, “lurked a hidden evil genius?”

“Well,” Robert cleared his throat embarrassedly.

“We should go,” Francis sighed, “We’re tired and if I’m not careful you’ll be scouting the hospital supplies for acid.”

Jensen huffed a laugh. “Sheriff Jones is outside waiting to carry you to Momma’s.”

“Thanks,” Francis leaned over and kissed Jared then began to gather her things. Jensen noticed the beginnings of a yellow bootie dangling from a set of knitting needles and smiled. 

Robert brushed a hand over Jared’s hair. “We’ll be back later, son.” His hand rested gently on Jared’s abdomen. “Aniolek.”

“What does it mean?” Jensen asked as Robert turned away. At the older man’s confused brow, he clarified. “Aniolek.”

“It’s Polish,” Robert explained, “for angel.”

Jensen waited until they left, then retrieved the case he’d left by the door and sat down in the chair by Jared’s bed. “Since yesterday you didn’t feel much like chatting and I think I’m all talked out, I thought we’d try something different today.” He thumbed open the clasps on the case and gingerly pulled his guitar from the velvet lining.

“Remember this?” Jensen strummed the strings. “Best birthday present ever. Ian did such a good job with it.”

 _Jared pushed open the glass door, a little bell hanging on piano wire jangling with the motion. He weaved his way past pianos, cellos and drum sets, curious gaze surveying the rows of guitars and banjoes lining the walls, and followed the sound of_ Smoke on the Water _floating through the air. The song paused for a moment – a single note being plucked repeatedly as the pitch subtly changed – before resuming. Knocking on the casing to the back room, Jared stuck his head through the open doorway._

_“Ian?”_

_“Jared!” The song abruptly stopped as a man on a stool, holding an acoustic guitar, stood to greet him._

_Jared shook the offered hand. “Sorry to interrupt you. There was no one out front.”_

_“Damn,” Ian cursed, “forgot to put out the bell again. No worries though. I was just finishing the tuning for you.” He held out the pristine guitar._

_“Shit! You serious? This is it?” Jared oh-so-carefully took the guitar, handling it like wet tissue paper._

_“Yep,” Ian beamed with pride. “Even impress myself sometimes. Hope you don’t mind. I took some before and after photos for my website.”_

_“Nah, man. Not at all.” Jared ghosted his fingers over the body, pads gliding easily over the waxed surface. “This is amazing. God, I hope Jensen likes it.”_

_“Your boy doesn’t fall all over himself about this beauty, you leave him and take it with you ‘cuz he doesn’t deserve either one of you.”_

_Jared smiled, strumming the strings, the notes ringing out pure and true._

_That night, Jared settled Jensen on the couch. “Close your eyes.”_

_“Jared, come on,” Jensen whined._

_“Close ‘em or no birthday present.”_

_Jensen heaved a put-upon sigh and closed his eyes, brows raised expectantly._

_“Keep ‘em closed!” Jared called, stepping into the bedroom to get his present. Hesitating at the doorway, he poked his head out. “Still closed?”_

_“Yes, Jared,” Dean said, exasperatedly. “This better be worth it.”_

_Jared came in and set the guitar in Jensen’s lap, biting his lip at Jensen’s confused eyebrows. Stepping back, he said, “Okay, open ‘em.”_

_Jensen blinked his eyes open, widening them in surprise when he saw his gift. “Oh, wow,” he whispered. Adding reverently just as hushed, “So worth it.” He lifted the instrument, turning it to see all sides, and petted over the unblemished woodwork. “It’s just like the one Dad has. Where did you find this?”_

_Jared grinned, unable to contain his joy that Jensen seemed to like his present. “Found it in a thrift store that day I went with Chad to find props for that film he was doing. You always said you wanted one like your Dad’s, so I bought it.”_

_Jensen eyed the glorious instrument in his hands. It looked like it belonged on a store shelf, not a discount store. “You got it at a thrift store?” He asked, disbelievingly._

_“Yeah,” Jared answered. “Well, it didn’t look like_ that _.” He waved his hand to indicate the current appearance. “She actually looked pretty pitiful when I got her. Kevin at the bar? His roommate works at a music store downtown restoring instruments. He completely refinished it.”_

_“That must have cost a fortune,” Jensen looked at him. Jared worked two jobs just to make ends meet, he didn’t have a lot of free cash._

_“We bartered,” Jared sounded proud. “He did the work on the guitar and I would come take his wedding pictures. Which reminds me, you’ll have to entertain yourself a week from Saturday.”_

_“Jared, this is…I mean…God, I don’t even have words.”_

_“So you like it?” Jared sat next to his boyfriend on the couch. He was pretty sure from Jensen’s reaction that he did, but he wanted to be sure._

_“Like it?” Jensen was incredulous. “I love it. Thank you so much, Jay. Best birthday present ever.”_

_Jared curled his fingers around the nape of Jensen’s neck and pulled him in for a kiss. “I’m glad.”_

Jared’s fingers curled on the white blanket, made a loose fist before relaxing. Jensen held his breath and waited, releasing it when nothing more came of the action.

“I’ll take that as a yes then.” He plucked the strings. “I had all these songs in mind on the way over and now I can’t think of a single one.” He stared at his fingers on the neck of the guitar, poised and ready for the command, missing the shadows of Chris and Steve watching from the doorway. “Well, there is one,” he scrunched up his mouth. “Don’t judge me. I learned it when Kota broke up with Nathan to cheer her up. She likes Pink for some reason.” He seated the guitar on his leg and cleared his throat.

_Right from the start You were a thief You stole my heart And I your willing victim I let you see the parts of me That weren't all that pretty And with every touch you fixed them_

In the doorway, Chris looked over at Steve and mouthed, “Pink?”

Steve merely shrugged, moving closer until his shoulder brushed Chris’.

_Now you've been talking in your sleep, oh, oh Things you never say to me, oh, oh Tell me that you've had enough Of our love, our love_

_Just give me a reason Just a little bit's enough Just a second we're not broken just bent And we can learn to love again It's in the stars It's been written in the scars on our hearts We're not broken just bent And we can learn to love again_

Jensen stared at Jared’s face and licked his quivering bottom lip before continuing. Chris curled an arm around Steve’s shoulders and Steve snugged an arm around Chris’ waist. They stood silent voyeurs of their friend’s pain, ashamed to intrude on the private moment, but too heartbroken to turn away.

_I'm sorry I don't understand Where all of this is coming from I thought that we were fine (Oh, we had everything)_

Jensen’s voice cracked, threatened to abandon him completely. He cleared his throat and swallowed then started again. Steve swallowed in sympathy. He tightened his grip on Chris wondering what he’d do if it was Chris in that bed instead of Jared and fervently hoping to never find out. __  
  


_Your head is running wild again My dear we still have everythin' And it's all in your mind (Yeah, but this is happenin')_

_You've been havin' real bad dreams, oh, oh You used to lie so close to me, oh, oh There's nothing more than empty sheets Between our love, our love Oh, our love, our love_

_Just give me a reason Just a little bit's enough Just a second we're not broken just bent And we can learn to love again_

Jensen reached over the rail and cupped both hands over Jared’s hand. The guitar was forgotten in his lap, its last note echoing forlornly in the room as he sang acapella. His voice was filled with everything he felt.

_I never stopped You're still written in the scars on my heart You're not broken just bent And we can learn to love again_

_Oh, tear ducts can rust I'll fix it for us We're collecting dust But our love's enough You're holding it in You're pouring a drink No nothing is as bad as it seems We'll come clean_

Jensen let go of Jared’s hand and reseated the instrument, the chorus ringing out under his fingers. Chris looked over and thumbed the tears from under Steve’s eyes.

_Just give me a reason Just a little bit's enough Just a second we're not broken just bent And we can learn to love again It's in the stars It's been written in the scars on our hearts That we're not broken just bent And we can learn to love again_

_Just give me a reason Just a little bit's enough Just a second we're not broken just bent And we can learn to love again It's in the stars It's been written in the scars on our hearts That we're not broken just bent And we can learn to love again_

_Oh, we can learn to love again Oh, we can learn to love again Oh, oh, that we're not broken just bent And we can learn to love again_

Finishing, Jensen sat quietly.  He scrubbed a hand down his face, wiping the wetness from his cheeks. “Okay, I may have underestimated Pink.” He stopped for a minute, eyes wide. “You did not just hear me admit that out loud.”

Still unnoticed, Chris and Steve shared an amused look.

“It’s true though, Jare. We’re not broken, not beyond fixing. Just a little beat up and bruised around the edges. We belong together. You just gotta give me a chance to prove it to you. You give me that and I spend forever showing you,” he vowed.

He played a little more, snippets of different songs coming to life before melding into another. Sitting back, he caressed the instrument, thinking. “You know my birthday is this weekend. I never thought I’d ever get a gift to top this one.” He patted the side of the guitar, a hollow thud sounding out, and set it in the case by his feet. “But you proved me wrong.” Jensen scooted forward, one hand tangling in Jared’s fingers, the other resting over his navel. “This little guy and the twins – God, Jay, I found the letter about the boys. It’s wonderful, more than I can describe, to know that I’m their Dad, their real Dad, but honestly it never mattered. I was serious that those boys were mine from the moment you came back into my life.” Realizing he was rambling, Jensen took a breath. “Anyway, what I’m trying to say is, you, Teddy, Benji, little Aniolek here – my family – y’all are the greatest gift I could ever receive and I can’t ever thank you enough for giving it to me.” He stood up and carded his fingers in Jared’s hair, kissing the sleeping man’s temple.

Chris jerked his head to indicate that he and Steve should leave and the two men turned to go.

BA-DINK

Jensen pulled back, eyes flying to the monitor.

BA-DINK

Everything looked normal just as it had for the past two days – no red lights, no flashing numbers.

BA-DINK

“Jared?” 

BA-DINK

“Jensen?”

He turned to see Chris and Steve hovering behind him, faces lined with fear and uncertainty.

“I don’t know!” 

BA-DINK

He realized the sound was coming from the rolling blue machine at the head of Jared’s bed – the machine connected to Jared’s breathing tube – just as nurses and JD came rushing in, shuffling Chris and Steve out of their way.

BA-DINK

“Someone kill that alarm,” JD growled.

“What is it? What’s the matter?” Jensen was pushed aside as one of the nurses moved to quiet the machine.

JD was snatching a stethoscope from around one of the nurse’s necks and fit it into his ears. He placed the diaphragm to Jared’s chest and listened.

Jensen bit his lip, watched JD reposition the piece several times before his patience ran out. “What?” he shouted.

JD looked, seeming to realize for the first time that Jensen was there. “Jensen, go wait outside. I’ll be out in a minute.” 

“No,” Jensen erupted, pushing his way past the nurses to the side of the bed. “Tell me what’s wrong.” Two sets of strong hands grabbed his shoulders and pulled him away.

“Come on, Jen. You’re not helping.” Chris spoke low in one ear.

“Let ‘em work,” Steve cooed in the other.

“Seriously, Jensen,” JD leveled him with an even gaze. “I’ll be out as soon as I take care of Jared.”

Reluctantly Jensen allowed his friends to pull him from Jared’s room, eyes on the form on the bed until the door blocked Jared from view. In the hall, Chris and Steve released him and he leaned back against the wall, sliding down into a crouch. He rested his elbows on his knees and pressed his palms to his eyes.

“What happened?” Welling’s voice was low and concerned. He’d seen the nurses and Doc Morgan rush into the room, but didn’t know why.

“No clue,” Chris stared at Jensen. “All the sudden the alarms started going off on some machine.”

“The ventilator,” Jensen corrected, tilting his face up towards the trio watching him. His hands slid down, fingers covering his mouth.

“Shit,” Welling breathed. “You know why? I mean, is it his lung?”

Steve shook his head. “Don’t know. JD said he’d be out in a minute.”

“Jensen,” Chris’ tone was softer than Jensen had ever heard it before. The stout man crouched in front of him, ducking to meet Jensen’s downturned eyes. “I’m sure everything is fine. Try not to get too worked up until Doc comes out. Okay?”

Jensen nodded numbly, wondering if it was Steve lying in there if Chris would be so rational. He licked his lips and let his hands fall limply between his spread legs. “What are you doing here?” He croaked then cleared his throat. “Thought you’d be asleep after having duty all night.”

Chris shrugged. “Caught a couple of hours.” He reached out and squeezed Jensen’s shoulder. “Wanted to come by and check on you and Jared. Also, I needed to grab a set of keys to Jared’s house. Mesa’s done in there so I was gonna go by and start arranging the clean-up.”

Jensen sighed and stood up, digging in the front pocket of his jeans for his keys. “You sure you want to handle that mess?”

Chris stood, grimacing as his right knee popped. “Yeah, I really do. I can’t help but feel this is largely my fault.”

“Our fault,” Steve interrupted, sliding his hand in Chris’.

Chris smiled at his boyfriend. “If I hadn’t left Jared alone then Olyphant would never have gotten his hands on them. This is our meager way of trying to set it right. Let us do this.” He pleaded at Jensen.

Jensen studied the two men, knowing the blame they felt was entirely self-inflicted, but could understand their need to make it right. He nodded, slipping the key to Jared’s house from his key ring. He placed it in Chris’ palm and watched it disappear under the curl of his fingers.

“Jensen?” JD stepped out of the room, wiping his hands on a paper towel.

“Is Jared all right?” Jensen gripped the seam of his jeans to still his shaking hands.

“Actually, he’s doing great,” JD smiled, ushering them a little down the hall. “The alarm you heard was because Jared was breathing over the vent.”

Jensen’s brow creased. “What does that mean?” A flutter of hope grew in his chest. From the corner of his eye, he saw Welling slide away to return to his post at Jared’s door.

“It means he’s breathing on his own. We’ve disconnected the vent and I just removed the breathing tube.” JD tossed the paper towel in a trash can.

At Jensen’s stunned expression, JD slapped the younger man on the shoulder. “This is good thing. It means Jared’s one step closer to waking up.”

“No. Yeah. I mean,” Jensen let a small smile pull at his lips. “It’s great. I just,” he blew out a breath, “I was just scared. Can I go back in now?”

“Of course,” JD placed a hand on his arm to keep him from leaving yet. “Just so you know, I scheduled Jared for another sonogram. There’s nothing to be concerned about,” he reassured when Jensen flicked panicked eyes at him. “We’re just keeping close watch on the baby.”

“But you’re sue nothing’s wrong?” Jensen asked, suspiciously.

“I promise,” JD raised his hands in defense. “It’s just routine.”

“Thanks, JD.”

JD said his good-byes and went to check on his other patients.

“We’re gonna head out too,” Chris said, adding the key to Jared’s house to his key ring. “Try and get started on things since it sounds like your boy will be waking up soon.”

Jensen could see the relief he felt over Jared’s improvement reflected in Chris’ eyes. “Thank you,” He whispered. Turning to Steve he added, “Both of you.”

“Not a problem,” Steve smiled, puling Jensen into a hug. “Anything you need us to do for you?”

Jensen squeezed his friend and released him. Scrubbing a weary hand down his face, he sighed. “Yeah, you mind calling over to Momma’s and updating everyone?”

“We’ll take care of it,” Chris promised, tugging Jensen into a hug of his own.

Jensen watched them leave and took a deep breath before he pushed into Jared’s room. An instant thrill shot through him at seeing the tube gone, at being able to see all of that beloved face. Without the tube, Jared looked like he was merely sleeping. He rushed forward – a compass arrow drawn to its true north, a soul reuniting with its mate. He lowered the railing and climbed up on the bed, no longer worried about dislodging the tube or breaking the ventilator, and laid out beside the sleeping man. He pressed kiss to coma-slackened lips. “Miss you, Jay. Come back to me.”

Jensen nestled his head in the crook of his arm and watched the rhythmic up and down of Jared breathing under his own power. He let the hypnotic motion lull him to sleep.

 

*****

The rattle of wheels on linoleum woke Jensen from the most peaceful sleep he’d had in weeks. He jerked up and looked over his shoulder to see a woman with dark, bobbed hair and sheepish expression push a rolling cart into the room.

“Sorry. Mom always said I was a bull in a china shop,” she smiled. “My name is Kim Rhodes and I’ll be doing Mr. Padalecki’s sonogram.”

_Mr. Padalecki?_

“They did tell you Mr. Padalecki was scheduled for one, right?” She glanced at him uncertainly, scanning the barcode on Jared’s ID band.

“Um, yeah,” Jensen shook his head, clearing the oddness of Jared being referred to by a name Jensen had always associated with Robert. “Sorry.” He slid off the bed and sat in the chair.

Kim moved Jared’s casted arms to the side and peeled back the hospital gown to expose Jared’s middle, carefully draping the sheet over his crotch to protect his modesty. “No problem.” She fiddled with the knobs, using a wheel to adjust some settings. “You were just woken up rudely. Nobody can expect you to be at your best.” She lifted a bottle from a holster on the side of the machine and squirted a glob of clear gel on Jared’s abdomen. “You ever seen a sonogram before?” She asked noting Jensen’s avid fascination with the process.

“No,” he shook his head and eyed the transducer she situated over Jared’s skin. 

“Awesome,” she beamed, “I love first-timers.” She fixed her attention to the screen, moving the wand over Jared’s stomach. She stopped and her other hand came up, thumb rolling a ball mouse on the machine. Several more clicks and she looked at Jensen.

“ _That_ is your baby.” She pointed to a shape on the screen. Jensen squinted and turned his head to the side, gasping when he made out a head and then an arm. The body moved in a jerky motion. Jensen’s gaze flew from the screen to Jared’s stomach and back. His baby. Abstractly he’d known that his baby was in there, but to see it on the screen, see it move, made it real.

“That’s my baby,” he repeated, awed.

“And,” Kim drew out the word, pushing a button. A rhythmic whooshing sound filled the room. Kim tilted her face up, eyes at the ceiling, and a happy smile on her face. “That is your baby’s heartbeat.”

“It’s so fast,” Jensen whispered, emotions surging through him and bringing tears to his eyes.

“It’s perfect,” Kim assured, letting it play another minute before turning off the machine. “Nice and strong.” She grabbed a washcloth from her cart and gently wiped the gel from Jared’s skin. Jensen saw her frown as she apparently noticed the deep purpling across Jared’s side and the handful of stitched cut. Jensen watched, waiting for her reaction, knowing what his own had been when he’d seen the injuries for the first time the day before during Jared’s sponge bath.

The frown stayed for just a brief moment then her smile returned. She re-situated Jared’s gown and carefully tugged the blankets over Jared’s body. She patted his shoulder motherly fashion, then turned back to the machine, wiping down the transducer and putting everything back in its proper place.

“Here,” she held out a piece of paper, a picture from the sonogram. “Thought you might want one.”

Jensen took the photo and stared at the image much as he had when JD gave him a similar one a few days before.

“Good luck to you both,” Kim called as she navigated the noisy machine out the door.

“Thanks,” he mumbled a little belatedly. Once they were alone again, he climbed back in bed with Jared. He tenderly rearranged the broken limbs, folding Jared’s massive hands over his belly, so Jensen could get as close as possible. 

“Look, Jay,” he held the picture up, “it’s our baby. We did that.” He kissed Jared’s cheek. “When Robin comes back in, I’ll get some tape from her and put it up on the wall with the kids’ pictures. That way we’ll both have one. I’ve been thinking of some baby names. What do you think about Pear or Orange? Gywneth’s opened up a whole new world of fruit related baby names and they’re not gender specific. If you don’t like that we could pull a Julia Roberts and go with retro names. There’s Mabel or Gertrude for a girl and Virgil or Irwin for a boy. Or we could use some old family names. I had a great uncle named Abernathy and didn’t you have an old aunt Ioda?” He joked. “If none of those tickle your fancy, what about Nicholas for a boy and maybe Faith or Hope for a girl?” The words were sincere. “You know what? You can name him or her whatever you want. All I need is for her to be born happy and healthy.”

He leaned over Jared and set the photo on the table beside the bed. “There is so much I want to give you,” he laid his hand on Jared’s, “and her and the twins. I want us to be a family. I want to marry you and raise our children. Can’t you just see it, Jay? I can. We could do the ceremony in my folks’ barn. Paper lanterns hanging from the rafters and white chairs, some kind of arch laced in lights. We’ll invite everyone, fill the place with the people who love us. I can’t wait to get you into a suit. I was thinking something dark. I always loved you in a dark suit. We could put the twins in shorts with suspenders and crisp white shirts. They’d be adorable. Of course, the ceremony would have to be short if we want the shirts to stay that white.” He smiled fondly. 

“Afterward we’ll have a huge reception – make Halloween look like a kid’s party. We’ll have to do it soon though because once angel baby gets here, I think we’ll have our plate pretty full. I want to have lazy Sundays with you. The kids piled on top of us in bed while we eat pancakes and watch animated movies we’ve seen enough times to quote word for word. We’ll get the kids a dog or two they can run around in the back yard with. Once little Pear gets here,” he rubbed a circle over Jared’s belly, “if you want more, we’ll have a whole basket of fruit. Anything you want, Jay. I’m not gonna say it’ll be perfect. I’m not stupid enough to do that. I can guarantee there will be arguments, angry words and hurt feelings, but I swear we will end every night together. I do promise to love you and our kids and make sure that not one minute will ever go by that you doubt that. It will never be like it was with Timothy. You’ll never have to be afraid again. I only want you to be happy. I will gladly bring you the moon and the stars. All you have to do is wake up and ask for them. I want to give it all to you, you just gotta open your eyes first. I know it’s hard and you’re tired and hurting, but before we can finish our life together, you gotta wake up.”

He watched Jared’s body, desperately hoping for a Hollywood end to this moment – Jared opening his eyes and crying out ecstatically that he wanted it all too – but Jared continued to sleep on. Jensen sighed and patted Jared’s hands, pressing a kiss to his temple. “You think on it and get back to me,” he gave Jared a watery smile. “I’m not going anywhere.”

Jensen laid his head on Jared’s pillow and stared at the man’s profile, the little sonogram picture just visible past the tip of Jared’s nose. His last thought before drifting back off to sleep was whether their baby would have Jared’s pointed nose.

 

*****

Jensen’s mind surfaced, a low rumble followed by an irritated sounding cough leading him from his slumber. The warmth he was happily lying beside shifted and a pained whimper yanked him the last bit to wakefulness. Jensen shot up on his elbow in time to see hazel eyes, glassy from hurt and medication, blink open. Jared’s brow was creased and his body stiff from what Jensen could only imagine was pain. He pushed the nurse call button on the side rail then carded his fingers through Jared’s hair. 

“Jay, baby, can you hear me?”

Jared’s gaze sluggishly, reluctantly, moved toward Jensen’s voice. Heavy eyelids blinked and Jensen saw the moment recognition flared in Jared’s mind. Jared’s pain-tense body relaxed and he licked his dry lips, a ghost of a smile tugging up the corners of his mouth. “J’ns’n,” he sighed, as if now he saw Jensen was there all was right in the world.

Jensen knew exactly how that felt.

 


	23. Chapter 23

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay in posting. I sure hope it doesn't disappoint.

A nervous laugh bubbled up Jensen’s throat, relief making him giddy. “Jared,” he breathed, pressing a kiss to Jared’s chapped lips. “God, I was so scared.” He peppered kisses along Jared’s brow and across his cheeks, hand fluttering in the air above Jared’s body, unsure where to settle that wouldn’t hurt.

“Jens’n?” Jared repeated, voice a little stronger but still cracking from disuse. He squinted his eyes and blinked against the harsh overhead light, pupils contracting and dilating as they tried to adjust to the sudden brightness.

“Yeah, baby,” He leaned up and yanked on the pull cord, turning off the light above the bed. Settling back at Jared’s side, he caressed a hand over Jared’s hair. “I’m right here.”

Jared sighed gratefully and licked his lips, smacking them together as his throat clicked dryly. “Wa – “ he cleared his throat wincing, “Water?”

Jensen hopped up and moved to the pitcher of water the nurses left each morning in anticipation of Jared waking, pouring some into one of the Styrofoam cups. He held the cup to Jared’s lips and watched as Jared took a few tentative sips. When Jared nodded, he pulled the cup away and set it on the bedside table.

Jared squeezed his eyes shut and fluttered his eyelids hoping to clear the lingering fogginess clouding his mind. Vague images and feelings drifted through his mind, leaving before he could get a grip on them. He tried to think back, remember what had happened, but he couldn’t make sense of things. How had he gotten hurt?

“How do you feel?”

Jensen’s question pulled him from his wondering thoughts. He shifted on the bed and swallowed a whimper of pain. “I’m fine,” he whispered, amending at Jensen’s raised eyebrow. “Hurts.”

“The nurse is coming. I’m sure she’ll be able to give you something.” Jensen nuzzled his nose along Jared’s temple, his chest looser than it had been in weeks.

“What hap – “

“Ssshhh,” Jensen leaned up on his elbow, hand caressing the side of Jared’s face, skirting the purpling bruises around his left eye and the gash on his forehead. “Let them take a look at you first then we’ll talk.”

Jared nodded and relaxed back into the pillows, happily letting Jensen pet over him. Something was niggling at the back of his mind, sending faint tendrils of fear down his spine, but he trusted Jensen and Jensen didn’t seem worried. He started at the knock on the door, the jerk jarring his sore body and making him hiss in pain. Robin gave an apologetic smile and quickly moved to the side of the bed.

“You decided to join us, Mr. Padalecki,” Robin beamed. “I’m Robin.”

“P-padalecki?” Jensen looked down at Jared’s high-pitched question, frowning. “My-my name is Michaels.”

Robin shot Jensen a confused look, clearly worried that Jared’s not knowing his name was an indication of brain damage. Jensen gave her a reassuring smile, remembering that Jared and the twins had taken on false names in Wowakan to hide from Olyphant. In the end, it hadn’t mattered. Timothy had found them anyways. “Jared, it’s okay,” he rubbed a thumb over the worried crease bisecting the young man’s forehead. “You can use your real name. You don’t have to pretend anymore.”

Jared licked his lips and nodded.

“How are you feeling, Mr. Padalecki?” Robin asked, smoothly diverting the conversation back on track.

“Fine,” Jared pliantly held out his arm for the blood pressure cuff, wincing when his cast accidentally banged against the side rail of the bed. He’d started to sweat from the pain and Jensen could feel fine tremors wracking his body.

“Oh, yes. I can see you’re just peachy,” Robin drawled sarcastically, watching the numbers on the monitor go down as the cuff deflated. Nodding her head in satisfaction, she removed the cuff. “JD is on his way. He put in orders for Tylenol so I’ll go ahead and get that drawn up.” She smiled at Jared and patted Jensen on the arm. Moving through the doorway, she flattened against the jamb to allow JD to enter.

“Jared!” JD grinned.

“Hey, Doc,” Jared mumbled quietly, clearing his throat.

JD grabbed Jared’s chart from a bin at the end of the bed, glancing at the numbers on the monitor and making a note before he replaced it. “Your vitals look good. If Jensen will excuse us for a minute, I’ll check you over and then get out of your hair. I’m sure y’all have a lot to talk about.”

“You want me to leave?” Jensen stared at JD incredulously.

“Can I talk to you for a minute?” JD levelled Jensen with a look that made it clear he wasn’t really asking. Jensen nodded and JD smiled at Jared. “One second. Okay?”

“Sure.” Jared looked uncertain.

JD guided Jensen over to the door. “Listen, I know you don’t want to be away from him, but I think the exam will go better without you here. Knowing Jared, he’ll be less likely to tell me the truth about his pain level if he’s worried it will upset you. It will only be a few minutes. I’m sure there are some phone calls you could make to help you pass the time.”

Jensen had to admit, albeit grudgingly, that JD was right. Jared was already trying to downplay the amount of pain that Jensen could clearly see he was in and if JD was going to treat him correctly, Jared needed to be honest with him. “Okay,” he reluctantly conceded. Crossing back to Jared, he dropped a kiss to an unmarred patch of forehead. “I’ll be right outside. Gonna call and let everyone know you’re okay.”

Jared smiled, but Jensen could see the strain around the edges. He kissed him again and with a nod at JD left the room quietly. He leaned back against the wall to the right of the door, eyes closed as he reveled in this moment of relief. Jared was awake, bruised and broken, but awake. He let a small smile flit across his lips.

“Everything okay?”

Jensen fluttered open his eyes to see Welling’s concerned face hovering in front of him. “He’s awake,” Jensen answered, that giddy, giggly feeling coming on again. “He’s in a lot of pain, but he’s awake.”

“Oh man,” Welling’s whole face lit up, some of the tension in the lines around his eyes softening. “That’s fantastic!” He clapped Jensen on the shoulder.

“Yeah.” Jensen let his gaze drift, the grin widening as he thought about Jared. Suddenly remembering Welling was there, he blinked and shook his head. “Yeah, it really is. I’ve got some calls to make. Do you mind calling Jones and telling him about Jared and that I’d like to see what Ford’s boys have gathered on Olyphant’s case?”

“You sure you’re ready for that? Wouldn’t you like a few more days to spend with Jared?” Tom was pulling his phone from his belt clip, but there wasn’t any hurry in his movement as he waited for Jensen to answer.

“Yes, I am. I think it’s time that I took a more personal interest in the manhunt.” Jensen’s face was determined.

Welling nodded and thumbed his lock screen off. Punching in Jones’ phone number, he motioned with this head that he was going to go down the hallway. Jensen tugged his phone from his pocket and stared at his contact wondering who he should call first. Deciding that Frankie and Robert were at his folks’ house, he decided to start there and effectively kill two birds with one stone.

He hung up the phone fifteen minutes later, chuckling and shaking his head fondly. His father had answered the phone and immediately put him on speakerphone when Jensen told him he had good news. After being interrupted several times, he’d been able to tell them the whole story of his morning, having to pull the receiver away from his ear twice when their jubilant cries were too loud. He ended the conversation with promises on their end to give him a few hours before they descended on Jared. He repeated the call twice – once to Chris and the other to his brother.

Chris was at Jared’s continuing his self-imposed penance, a multitude of voices that Jensen assumed was contractors in the background. His friend’s relief was palpable even over the phone. Chris carried a lot of guilt around over what had happened to Jared and nothing Jensen or anybody else said alleviated it. Only Jared could give Chris absolution and just hearing he’ll have a chance to beg for that forgiveness seemed to lift weight from the man’s shoulders. Chris was going to catch up with Jones and come by Jensen’s later so they could discuss the progress the Mesa County Sheriff’s Department had made and where they needed to go from here. Austin assured Jensen that the twins were having a good time at the park and that he would bring them by the hospital after they finished and had gotten some lunch. They decided to keep Jared’s wakefulness from them as a surprise.

Jensen was just tucking his phone away when JD emerged from Jared’s room. Jensen pushed away from the wall and wiped his suddenly sweaty hands on his jean-clad thighs.

“Everything okay? You were in there for a while.”

“I wanted to do a thorough exam now that Jared was awake to provide me feedback. He’s healing well,” JD assured him.

“What does he know?” Jensen flicked a glance at Jared’s door, barely resisting the urge to rush back to Jared’s side until he could hear what JD had to say.

“About which? The baby or his injuries?”

“Both,” Jensen answered immediately. “Either,” he shrugged. He needed to know what Jared knew about what happened so he figure out how to proceed.

“Nothing. If he knew about the baby, he doesn’t remember and I didn’t offer anything. It’s not uncommon for victims of this type of trauma to have issues recalling events just prior to the injury.”

Jensen gave JD a skeptical look. “JD,” he admonished. “Jared’s not stupid. He would have asked how he got hurt.”

“He did,” JD confirmed. “I told him I wasn’t sure of the specifics, just that he was attacked, and that he would have to talk to you to know more.” He put his hand on Jensen’s shoulder. “There are some thing that people just need to hear from a loved one.”

Jensen ducked his head, properly chastised. “JD, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean…”

“It’s okay, Jensen,” JD squeezed the shoulder still under his grip. “You’ve been through a lot over the last few days and you’ve got a hard couple still ahead of you. You’re allowed to be a little on edge and a lot overprotective.”

“Thanks,” Jensen clapped his bicep. “Just…thanks.”

“Go on in to your boy.” He jerked his chin in the direction of Jared’s room. “You know you want to.”

Jared was propped up in bed, his casted arms cushioned on pillows laying over his abdomen. He was looking out the window, the noon day sun shining merrily off the snow that had fallen over the past few nights, the bruised portion of his face hidden by the angle.

“Hey, handsome,” Jensen forced a smile. “What’s a good looking thing like you doing in a place like this?” It was his default setting. In times of tragedy, some people brought condolences or well-wishes or even the ever popular ‘beautifully freezable’ casserole – Jensen? Jensen brought humor.

Jared turned sad eyes to him, tear-damp cheeks not so much as twitching. “What happened? How are you here? Where are the boys? Where’s Timothy?” Each question was more panicked than the one before, Jared working himself into a frenzy. He was on the verge of hyperventilating and Jensen could see the mad thrum of his pulse under the thin skin of his neck.

“Hey, hey, hey,” Jensen soothed, coming into the room with his hands raised in placation. Apparently Jared’s mind was clearing and he was starting to piece some things together.

Jared’s eyes were wide and wild. “Where’s Timothy? Where is he?”

“Calm down. Breathe. You’re safe, I swear.” Jensen was getting worried.

“No!” Jared yelled. “I have to know. I have to…” he panted.

“He’s not here. He ran. You and the twins are safe.” He assured, voice low and comforting. “Jared, I promise to answer everything. Just _please_ calm down.”

Jared licked his lips nervously and took a few deep breaths to master his breathing, nodding when he felt a little more centered.

“Let’s take it one question at a time. Okay?” Jensen ducked down to look Jared in the eye.

“Okay.”

Jensen sat on the edge of the bed and tangled his fingers with Jared’s. “What’s the last thing you remember?”

Jared’s eyes shifted back and forth under a furrowed brow, scanning over the white blanket covering his body from left to right then back again as his mind sifted through his hazy memories. His left eye narrowed and he shook his head slightly. “I was at the house,” he started slowly. His head tilted to the right and he frowned. “You were there.”

“That’s right,” Jensen agreed, thumb stroking over the back of Jared’s knuckles. “I came to see you.”

Jared’s eyes volleyed faster, fragments of memory ghosting across his mind – jumbled images like phantom vapor that was there and gone before he could get a grasp. Slowly things began to congeal, right themselves and slot into proper places. He stared unseeingly at the soiled linen cart.

_Jensen cupped his cheek. “I want you to go upstairs and pack your and the twins’ things. I’m getting you out of here.”_

“We…we were going to leave.” He looked at Jensen with wide eyes. “You were going to take us away.”

Jensen nodded, heart aching at what he knew Jared was about to recall.

Jared’s eyes dropped down as he tried to piece together what happened next. _Had he left with Jensen?_ His forehead creased in concentration, trying to force his mind to make the connections through sheer will.

_“Hurry, Jared,” Jensen kissed him again, a mere press of lips before releasing him and stepping back. “I don’t want to take the chance of Timothy coming home.”_

_“Too late.”_

_His whole body froze, the blood in his veins turning to ice. Jensen spun around, blocking his view and he moved slightly to the side to see Timothy in the doorway with a gun pointed at Jensen’s chest._

Jared’s eyes flew to Jensen. “Timothy came home,” he exhaled, breath rushing back in too fast. “I – I thought he was going to shoot you.” Tears pooled along his lower lids, lip trembling at the remembered feeling of panic and fear thinking Timothy was going to kill Jensen.

“But he didn’t,” Jensen stated the obvious. He squeezed Jared’s hand as a reminder that he was there and whole. “Do you remember what happened after Timothy came in?” He had to be careful here, let Jared come to it naturally or it could all be too much.

Jared shivered away the residual emotions and swallowed. “Um,” he licked his lips, sucking them in over his teeth. Blue and red lights flashed in his mind’s eye.  “Jones. He arrested you…with Tom and Mikey.”

“Right,” Jensen coaxed. “What happened after I left?” This was the part that no one but Timothy and Jared knew. Jensen knew he should wait for Ford’s boys to come question Jared, but believed that the first time Jared relived what happened to him shouldn’t be in front of a bunch of strangers.

Jared’s face twitched, pain overtaking his features before he could school them again. He bit his bottom lip and stared trancelike at the wall opposite him. “He was so angry.”

_Timothy spun around so fast that he didn’t have time to brace himself, the blow coming fast and hard, knocking him straight to the ground._

“He – he hit me.”

_“I hope he was worth what I’m going to do to you.”_

_Timothy kicked out hard, his foot catching Jared in his already injured ribs, forcing him onto his back. Jared screamed, body curling to protect itself._

“Kicked me.”

Jared could see watery green eyes staring down at him from the second story landing, terror and horror reflected in their once innocent depths. “The boys,” he gasped, trying to sit up only to cry out in pain.

Jensen placed a staying hand on his shoulder, but Jared shrugged him off. “The boys, Deputy! I told them to run, to go to you. God! Tell me they’re okay! Tell me they made it!” Hot tears ran down his cheeks, his breath hiccupping on broken sobs. He tangled the fingers of his less damaged hand in the fabric at the front of Jensen’s shirt. “Please!”

“Jared, calm down,” Jensen cooed. “They’re safe, remember? They did you proud. They went directly to my house and when I wasn’t there, they called my cell phone.” He wiped the tears from Jared’s face with the backs of his fingers.

“They’re okay?” Jared sniffled, beseeching eyes staring up at Jensen.

“As okay as they can be without their Daddy,” Jensen reassured. “They’ve been staying with me. Right now they’re out with Austin, Gen and the boys. I thought they could use the distraction. Austin said he’d bring them by in a little bit. I’m sure you want to see them as much as they want to see you.”

Jared relaxed back into the pillow. “They were still there on the landing, Deputy. I begged him to go somewhere else, somewhere they couldn’t see, but he refused. He was going to let them watch as he punished me, wanted them to see it. What kind of person does that?” Jared looked to Jensen for an answer.

Jensen was at a loss. “I don’t know,” he said quietly, shaking his head.

“I told them to run and I remember seeing the empty landing. Things are kind of hazy after that.” He looked down, gaze unfocused, fingers picking at the corner of the pillowcase. His forehead furrowed and he shook his head as if disagreeing with whatever details his mind was supplying. His eyes narrowed. “The lamp,” he said slowly, mind still working through the images, “it fell and broke. I think, I think I might have stabbed him in the leg with one of the pieces.” He lifted his right hand, careful of the cast on his forearm. A scabbed line ran diagonally across the palm right up to the edge of the fiberglass looped around his thumb. He flexed his hand, fingers splaying with the stretch, and hissed in a sharp breath when the skin surrounding the cut pulled. He stared at his hand then turned lost, confused eyes to Jensen. “I stabbed him,” Jared’s voice was thick with disbelief. “I’ve never hurt anyone in my whole life.”

“Jared,” Jensen wrapped his hand around Jared’s, curling the younger man’s long fingers in over the wound, “You had your reasons. He was hurting you.”

Jared frowned, gazed fixated on where their hands were joined. He’d been on the receiving end of Timothy’s ‘love’ for years – had resigned himself that that night Timothy was more than likely going to ‘love’ him to death – without so much as raising a hand in his own defense. Why had he chosen then to fight back? He remembered the sound of Timothy’s shoes striking his flesh, the pain in his arms and legs, Timothy’s mumbled curses, his thoughts in utter chaos…

_Protectthebaby, Jensen’sbaby_

_Jared, it’s Dr. Morgan… You’re pregnant… about ten weeks along…_

_Jensen’s baby_

Jared would never fight back for himself, but for someone he loved…that was different. Realization struck hard and fast. His eyes widened and he jerked his casted arms further down on his abdomen, wincing at the sudden, jarring movement. His teary gaze sought out Jensen. “Baby,” he gasped, question and statement all rolled into one word.

Jensen sat on the edge of the bed and placed his hand over Jared’s. “The baby is fine, Jared. See?” He leaned over Jared and plucked the ultrasound from the table where he’d laid it earlier. “There’s its head. I think?” He rotated the picture ninety degrees to the left then back to the right, tilting his head with a frown of concentration. “Yeah! See? There are the eyes and the nose,” he traced the image, pointing out the different features. “Here’s one arm and the other. So those,” he circled the remaining appendages with his index finger, “must be the legs.” He scrunched his face up. “Maybe? Kim explained everything way better. I can probably get her to come back.”

“Can – can I?,” Jared’s good fingers wiggled below the image.

“Yeah, of course,” Jensen smiled, handing the black and white picture over.

Jared’s thumb rubbed over the image, the tears that had been dangling precariously from his lower lids, falling unrepentantly. Licking his lips, he sucked his upper lip over his teeth. “He’s really okay?”

“Yeah, _she_ is,” Jensen confirmed, emphasizing the pronoun.

“You think it’s a girl?” Jared sniffled.

Jensen nodded. “Maybe? More hoping than knowing,” he conceded. Leaning closer, he whispered, “God help us with three boys.”

Jared huffed a watery chuckle, breath catching and body going still at the pain it caused. His eyes opened and his gaze fell unerringly to the ultrasound image again. “Did you tell the twins?”

“Nope. I thought that was something that we should do together.” Jensen reached out and outlined the soft curves of their baby’s head with his index finger. “You okay with another bundle of energy running around?”

Jared nodded. “More than. I always wanted another baby, just not with Timothy.” Jared watched Jensen’s fingers move over the image of their baby, the tenderness of the action, and thought about what could have happened that night. Everything that could have been lost. “I didn’t know,” he shook his head and looked at Jensen, pleading with the other man to believe him. “I swear, I didn’t. Not until the message. I swear, Jensen.” He dropped the picture and twisted his fingers into the fabric of Jensen’s shirt. “Please,” he begged, his breathing coming fast and erratic. “I would never…”His voice died on a wheeze. “I promise,” He managed between harsh gasps. His other hand came up to paw ineffectually at Jensen’s arm, only the pads of his immobilized fingers touching the flannel. “Please,” he whispered. Over their heads, alarms sounded as numbers flashed red on the monitor. Jared’s pulse jumped – 110 ratcheting to 120 then to 130 – while his oxygen saturation dropped – 98% falling to 95% before going to 93%.

“Jared, please! Please! Calm down,” Jensen sat up and gently put his hands on Jared’s shoulders, dipping his head to look Jared in the eye. “I know, baby, I know.” He soothed, face as genuine as he could make it. He petted over Jared’s hair, his other hand remaining a grounding presence on his shoulder. “I know,” he repeated sincerely before his tone took on its own pleading lilt. “Please, Jare, breathe. You gotta breathe. Come on. In and out. Nice and easy.” Jensen pressed his forehead to Jared’s, locked their gazes and took an exaggerated breath then another, leading by example. Jared sucked in a shaky breath, whimpering as the air rushed out when the motion pulled on his broken ribs. “That’s it. Slow in and slow out.” Jensen inhaled again, making a show of the unhurried action, and smiled when Jared copied him. “Good, Jared, good.”

“What happened?” Robin rushed in, bouncing slightly off the doorjamb.

“We just got a little upset,” Jensen answered, refusing to break their connection, “but we’re calming down.” Their breathing synched up – a game of Follow-The-Leader: Jensen inhaled, Jared inhaled, Jensen exhaled, Jared exhaled – until Jared was under control, taking a deep breath on his own. The alarms silenced themselves as Jared’s body relaxed.

Robin stood next to the bed, eyes volleying between the two men and the monitor. Trying to be unobtrusive, the Deputy Sheriff was going a better job of helping Jared than she could; she pulled a syringe from the front pocket of her scrub top. She twisted the end into the port in the IV line and had just placed her thumb on the plunger to send the medication into the tubing when Jared’s bark of ‘No!’ startled her. She jumped back and let go of the syringe, bumping into the rolling table behind her.

“Jared?” Jensen leaned back to look at him in confusion. “What’s wrong?”

“No medicines,” he shook his head at the nurse. He turned to face Jensen. “I don’t want to take anything that might hurt the baby.”

“Mr. Padalecki,” Robin said, patiently, “it’s just Tylenol. It’s safe for the baby.”

“I rather not take the risk and I don’t need it. I’m fine. Really.”

“But, Mr. Padalecki…”

“Hey, Robin? Can you give us a minute?” Jensen was watching Jared carefully.

Her gaze flicked from Jensen to Jared. She took a deep breath and, nodding, unhooked the syringe from where it was dangling from the IV port and screwed the cap back on. She tucked the medication in her pocket and made her way to the door, advising them to push the call button when they were ready for her.

Jensen waited for her to pull the door shut before he turned his attention back to Jared. Gently as he could so he wouldn’t jostle Jared, Jensen stretched out on the bed and scooted as close to Jared as possible. He ran his fingers feather-light over Jared’s torso, feeling heart and lungs working beneath his hand. “You should really let them give you whatever they can for the pain.”

Jared shifted closer to Jensen’s warmth. “The baby…” he began to protest.

Jensen placed a finger against Jared’s lips, quieting him. “Jared,” his fingers drifted to beneath Jared’s chin and tenderly turned Jared to face him. “Robin said it was safe.” He swallowed and picked his next words carefully. If there was anything he knew in this world, it was Jared. “The pain is not your penance. You have nothing to be punished for. None of this is your fault and you suffering will only stress your body…and the baby.”

Jared hid his face in Jensen’s chest, unable to curl into the older man’s warmth like he really wanted. “I’m sorry,” he mumbled, “I’m so, so sorry.” He shuddered and his breathing sped up. “I never meant to put our baby in danger.”

“Don’t!” Jensen stopped his caressing and pulled back far enough to look Jared in the eye. “I told you, this is not your fault. You have nothing to be sorry for.” When Jared tried to turn his face away, Jensen took it gently between his thumb and finger, forcing the young man to look at him. “Jared, you tried to protect our baby. Your body is a testament to that. You saved her. Do you understand that? You _saved_ her.” He released Jared’s face and picked up the ultrasound that had been crushed between their bodies. “Look!” He held up the picture. “Our aniolek is alive because of you.” He put his hand on Jared’s abdomen, sandwiching the image there. “Because of you.”

Jared sniffled and his eyes dropped to where Jensen pressed the image over where its subject lay nestled in his womb. He was quiet for a long moment then his forehead scrunched up. “Aniolek?”

Confused for a moment, Jensen realized what he’d called the baby. “Yeah,” he chuckled lightly and shrugged a shoulder. “It’s what your Dad keeps calling the baby. I guess it stuck.”

“My Dad?” Jared shifted back on the mattress to give him a better angle to see Jensen’s face and muffled a groan. “You talked to Dad?”

“He and your Mom are staying at my folks.” Jensen’s hands fluttered useless over Jared’s body, unsure how to help and afraid he’d cause more pain.

“They’re here?” Jared tried to sit up in his surprise, only to go pale and fall back to the mattress with an uncontainable moan. After a few moments of panting, he looked at Jensen. “You shouldn’t have done that, not over me. If Dad’s not there then who’s overseeing the job sites? With his heart condition, they can’t afford to lose any money.”

“Don’t you do that,” Jensen glared at Jared. “Don’t you judge me for calling them.” He stood up and paced to the window, looking out at the bleak February landscape. The sky was gray and overcast, the clouds threatening snow and promising a leonine entrance to March. He closed his eyes, images of that night – Jared tangled in blood stained satin sheets, the rattle-gasp of his labored breathing, the death-like pallor and iciness of his skin – flashing across the back of his eyelids like a slideshow. “You weren’t there. You didn’t see.”

“Deputy…” He could hear the argument in Jared’s tone and quickly cut it short.

“I thought you were dead,” he confessed to the winter weary world, breath fogging the pane glass.

“What?”

“When I walked into that room, I thought you were dead.” Jensen turned, realizing for the first time that tears streaked his face when the heat blowing softly from the overhead ducts cooled the wetness on his cheeks. “There was so much blood,” he sucked his bottom lip into his mouth to keep it from quivering. “You were barely breathing.” He stared at the framed Patient’s Bill of Rights on the wall trying to regain his composure, knowing that if he looked at Jared he’d lose the tremulous control he had. “I held you and told you that everything was going to be all right.” He finally looked at Jared, the injured man blurred behind a veil of salt water. “So you can be mad if you want, but until you hold the love of your life in your arms as he’s dying and wonder if the first lie you ever told him will be the last thing you ever say to him, you don’t get to judge.” The anguish and worry of the last several days seeped into his voice, thickly lacing the words. The strength from the last few days was evaporating and the hurt he’d kept at bay was pressing in on him from all sides.

The room was quiet in the wake of Jensen’s eruption, the soft whoosh of oxygen through Jared’s nasal cannula the only sound.

“Deputy,” Jared said, barely above a whisper. “Come here.”

Jensen scrubbed a hand down his face and sniffled, moving to the side of the hospital bed.

“Here,” Jared jerked his head to the side to indicate the empty space on the mattress.

Jensen carefully climbed on the bed and settled on his side as close to Jared as he dared get. He noticed the damp tracks on Jared’s face and, mindful of the lingering bruises, brushed the evidence away. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have gotten angry like that.”

“Yes, you should have,” Jared corrected, pressing a kiss to Jensen’s forehead. “You were right. I had no right to get mad.”

“Jared,” Jensen sighed, still coming down from his outburst. “You can be whatever you want. As long as you and little Ani here are okay,” he laid his hand on Jared’s abdomen, “I don’t care.”

Jared smiled down at Jensen’s hand. “You’re really excited about the baby?”

“You bet I am,” Jensen beamed at him, eyes crinkling in the way Jared had missed. “I hope you’re ready because I am going to spoil the two of you so much.” He rubbed his hand in soothing circles over Jared’s stomach. “I missed all this with the twins, so I have a lot to make up for.”

Jared’s smile faltered as understanding struck. He nibbled on his bottom lip, breaking open the scab there. “You read the papers.”

It wasn’t a question, but Jensen answered anyway. “Yes, I did.” Seeing Jared’s nervous expression, he gently kissed the younger man’s lips to soothe the hurt.

“You okay? You’re not upset are you?”

“Okay?” Jensen lifted his hand and ran his fingers through Jared’s hair. “Jared, I’m so far past okay. You have no idea. I’m,” he shook his head slightly, momentarily at a loss for words, “I’m over the freaking moon. Those boys are mine. _Ours_ ,” he corrected, pressing another kiss to Jared’s mouth. “I wish I’d been there from the beginning, but be upset that those perfect creatures are mine? Never. Those papers didn’t change the way I feel, they just confirmed what I already knew.  I wasn’t joking when I told you they were my boys. It’s just now everybody will know and _nobody_ can deny it. I love you, Jared, and I love our family.”

“I love you, Deputy.” A tear leaked from the corner of Jared’s eye and Jensen kissed it away.

“Let’s try to get some rest. I’m pretty sure you have a lot of guests in your future.” Jensen nestled down further onto the mattress.

“The boys?” Jared asked, hopefully.

Jensen nodded, “They’ll be here in a couple of hours. Austin and Gen are bringing them by after they finish at the park.”

Jared swallowed, exhaustion pulling his eyelids and pain creasing the corners. “How are they handling everything? Did you tell them that you were their Papa? Their _real_ Papa.”

Jensen petted over Jared’s chest with one hand and pressed the nurse call button with the other. “No, I decided to wait on that, too. Wanted to give them all the good news at one time. It’s been hard on them, but they’ll be better now that you’re awake and they can see you.” At Jared’s raised eyebrow, he continued, “They’re worried about you, scared _Father_ is going to come back and mad at him for hurting you. It’s been a rollercoaster of a few days, but ultimately, they’ve been troopers.”

Jared paled at the mention of Timothy. “Do you know where he is?”

“No,” Jensen said softly, “but the largest manhunt in Colorado’s history is underway looking for him.” Seeing Jared’s breathing pick up and feeling his heart rate thumping against his palm, Jensen pressed his hand down on Jared’s chest. “Jared, we have the entirety of the Mesa County Sheriff’s Department running the investigation and…”

“Mesa?” Jared interrupted. “You aren’t handling it?”

“The higher-ups decided our department was too close to the victims,” he raised up on his elbow and pressed a soft, chaste kiss to Jared’s lips. “Can’t imagine why,” he smirked. Smile turning serious, he cupped Jared’s face. “Ford and his men are good guys and I trust them. If we can’t be the ones doing the footwork, there’s no one I’d rather have. Plymouth County has taken over the patrols in town so our guys’ sole focus is on protecting you and the twins.”

Jared relaxed back on the mattress, but a suspicious expression was on his face. “There’s something you’re not telling me.” He coughed his already scratchy throat dry and irritated from talking.

Jensen got up and refilled Jared’s water. “What do you mean?” He asked, settling back on the bed and holding the cup to Jared’s lips.

Jared took a grateful sip and nodded his thanks. “The higher-ups,” he cleared his throat, grimacing, “wouldn’t dedicate that many people just over a case of – of domestic a-abuse. What else happened?”

The muscle in Jensen’s jaw ticked as the thought over what to tell Jared. In the end, he decided to honest. “Matt Cohen is dead. Olyphant killed him right after he left you.”

“Matt?” Jared’s eyes were round and fear-filled. “Why – why would he do that?”

Jensen shook his head, “I don’t know. We’re going to find him, Jared, and make sure that you _and_ Matt get the justice you deserve. I promise you that.”

Jared stared over Jensen’s shoulder, the fear taking over. He’d always known that Timothy was capable of heinous things, had experienced them first hand, but never believed that he could actually kill someone…well, someone who wasn’t Jared. But… “He was different.”

“Different how?”

“Before when he’d,” Jared shrugged, curling his shoulders in, “hurt me, Timothy was always in control. Mean, hateful, cruel, but in control.” Jensen moved to put his face back in Jared’s eye line, but Jared shifted his gaze to keep his focus over Jensen’s shoulder. “This time…” Jared shuddered.

“What about this time?” Jensen asked slowly.

“He was feral, like he was unravelling at the seams. He kept telling me that he wouldn’t let you win.” Jared couldn’t breath, his lungs spasmed without bringing in any air. “He’ll come back,” he gasped, “for us. Never. Let us. Go.” Jared’s face was red, tears of fear and exertion leaking from his panicked eyes.

“Hey, hey, hey, Jared. Calm down.” Jensen was seriously rethinking his decision to tell Jared everything. “You and the boys are as safe as they can be. Tom’s outside and Mike is watching over the twins. Everybody would rather die than let that bastard anywhere near you or them.”

“He’ll come back,” Jared repeated, chest still heaving but calming. “We have to be ready.”

“We will be,” Jensen cupped Jared’s face, “I swear, he ever steps foot in this town again, he’ll never leave it again.”

Jared’s eyelids fluttered as he took a deep breath. He was so tired and the pain was edging in, slowly but surely. “Thank you,” he sighed.

“No need to thank me,” Jensen kissed him. “You’re my family, Jared. I’ll do whatever it takes to keep you safe.”

Jared could feel sleep tugging at him as the adrenaline wore off. “Promise me.”

“Anything,” Jensen answered automatically, brushing a wayward strand of hair from Jared’s face.

“No matter what, you’ll protect our children.” Jared’s voice was losing steam as the exhaustion worsened.

“You know I will.”

“Promise,” Jared breathed. “No matter what, our children come first.”

Jensen froze, Jared’s meaning sinking in.  It was more than a promise. Jared had been willing to sacrifice himself to save the twins and he knew that there may come a time when Jensen might have to choose between protecting Jared and protecting the kids. Jared was making the decision for him, taking the burden from him. He swallowed, speechless.

“Promise me.” Jared was drifting off.

“Get some sleep, Jared.” He kissed Jared’s forehead.

“Promise.” It was nothing more than an insistent mumble.

Jensen closed his eyes and bit his bottom lip. “I promise,” he lied.

Jared’s lips twitched into a ghost of a smile. Jensen lay awake next to him and watched his breathing even out.

 

*****

 

 

Jensen dozed off sometime after Robin came back in and gave Jared his dose of Tylenol. Jared barely roused as she administered the medication and checked his vitals, the physical toll on his body coupling with the emotional drain on his soul to drag him into a deep sleep. He slept restlessly, his injuries making it difficult for him to find a comfortable position. Jensen woke with each movement and whimper to help soothe Jared back down. He felt perversely happy every time. Jared moving and voicing his pain meant he was alive. After days of nothing, Jensen had quantifiable proof that Jared was there.

A soft knock on the door jamb pulled him from a dream where he and Jared were hiking with the twins in the foothills and he opened his eyes to see Austin hovering in the doorway. Carefully, Jensen extracted himself from Jared and crossed to his brother.

“Hey,” Austin greeted, hugging his brother. “How’s he doing?”

“It’s been a rough day,” Jensen admitted. “He can only take Tylenol so it only takes the edge off the pain, never fully dulls it. He also wanted to know what happened.”

Austin rolled his eyes. “Of course, he did.” He looked past Jensen’s shoulder at the sleeping man on the bed. “The twins are in the waiting room with Gen and the boys. You think this is a good idea? He still looks pretty weak. The boys might be too much.”

Jensen squeezed Austin’s shoulder, smiling reassuringly. His brother’s features had taken on a haunted quality as he watched Jared on the bed and Jensen knew that he was seeing Traci wasting away in his mind’s eye. It was true that time healed all wounds, Gen helping the process along, but it didn’t mean that the pain was ever truly forgotten. “I think seeing the twins is exactly what Jared needs.”

“Okay,” Austin nodded. “I’ll go get them.”

Jensen moved back to the side of the bed and ran his fingers through Jared’s hair, rousing the man a little more with each pass. “Jared? Jared.” Jared pressed into his touch and he smiled. “There’s a couple of someones here to see you.”

Jared hummed sleepily, eyes opening slowly. “Hmmmm?”

“You have visitors.”

“Daddy.” The word was graveside quiet, barely a whisper, and both men turned to see the twins standing hesitantly in the doorway.

“Teddy! Benji!” Jared’s face lit up, dimples out in full force at the sight of his sons. He struggled to sit up, clenching his teeth against the pain and moans the actions created, and Jensen hurried to help him. “Come here,” he beckoned them closer, “Come to Daddy.”

The boys rushed to him, tittering at the side unsure of where to stand.

“Up here,” Jared motioned with his casted arm. Seeing their wary expressions, he looked to Jensen. “Deputy, help them on the bed,” he pleaded.

Jensen lifted first Benji then Teddy onto the hospital bed and helped them get situated, one on each side of Jared. The boys gently snuggled up against the outside of Jared’s arms, wrapping theirs around his biceps, and rested their heads on his shoulders. Tears flowed freely as they clung tightly to their Daddy. Jared bent his head and kissed their crowns, words of love and praise falling from his lips.

“I’m so proud of you. You did so good. My good little boys. So big and brave. I love you. More than anything. I’m so proud.”

Jensen leaned back against the wall and watched his family. The twins murmured declarations of love into the cotton of Jared’s hospital gown, the words soaking into the fabric along with their tears, as Jared pressed kisses to their faces. He stood there keeping a careful watch until the words ran dry and the three dozed off, safe in each other’s arms like there was no place they’d rather be.

 


	24. Chapter 24

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A shorter chapter than I usually do, but we needed to get up to speed on the hunt for Olyphant.

Jensen eased the door shut, leaving it open just enough that the sleeping inhabitants inside could be heard if they woke up. He rubbed a hand over his face, fingers trailing back to comb his worry-worn hair before massaging the tense muscles at the nape of his neck. It had been a long day and Jensen felt as though he’d been through the emotional wringer. The elation of Jared waking was followed swiftly by the heartbreak of him remembering everything that had happened to him. The twins were able to buoy Jared’s spirits until their own succumbed to the accumulation of days of worry preceded by weeks of fear.

They’d fallen asleep, safely and oh-so-carefully snugged against Jared’s side, pillows buffering their weight on Jared’s injuries, and Jensen watched over them, the clenching around his heart lessening for the first time at the intimate sight of his family safe and whole. The room was quiet, the monitor silent. Days of restless sleep, the hypnotic repeating pattern of Jared’s heartbeat on the display and the rhythmic sound of the beloved triad’s breathing conspired to lull Jensen into a light doze. He woke with a start at Jared’s sharply inhaled breath, the twins’ heads popping up at the sound as well. Jared’s eyes were closed, head tilted to the ceiling, features tight and jaw clenched with barely repressed pain.

Jensen noticed Benji’s hastily withdrawn leg, the small denim-clad limb jerking away from Jared’s casted leg as tears pooled in small green eyes. Benji had shifted in his sleep and accidentally kicked Jared’s injured shin. Jared swallowed and licked his lips, letting out a slow, controlled breath.

Benji sobbed out an apology, the sound so remorseful that Jensen’s heart seized. He jumped up, reaching out to soothe and Benji jerked back as if afraid Jensen was going to strike him. Teddy was still as a stone, wide eyes watching as he trembled, expression clearly showing his thoughts were close to this brother’s. A sick realization curdled in Jensen’s stomach at the thought that maybe they did think that. Timothy’s temper was legendary and abusers tended to be possessive of their punching bags and did not like to share. Jensen’s hand slowly retreated, hoping to keep from scaring the small boys again. Watery eyes watched him warily and Jensen added another item on his list of reasons to kill Timothy. He’d made his boys afraid of him, suspicious of everything.

Jared fluttered his eyes open and forced a smile on his face, forgiveness shining down at his son. He pressed kisses to first Benji’s head and then to Teddy’s, who’d watched with a hand hovering over Jared’s body in worried trepidation. It seemed witnessing Jared’s pain and feeling his love unleashed the fear and helplessness the twins had been feeling, the emotions spilling from them in a torrent.

Jensen knew there would be a moment when the twins would reach their limit – their earlier tears were fueled by joy and reunion, it was only a matter of time before the saltwater flowed for another reason. Weeks under Timothy’s restrictive rule followed by days of terror over their daddy rushed out of them in hiccupping sobs. They rambled over and around each other, crying and babbling so hurriedly that most of what they said was lost to nonsense. Jared shushed them, his heartbreak that fiberglass prevented him from pulling them close clear on his face. Jensen filled in as best he could, rubbing their backs consolingly. Between Jared’s soothing words and Jensen’s comforting touch the twins calmed enough to be understood – how they didn’t want to leave him that night, but ran anyway; their fear that Timothy would come get them, get Jared; promising their Daddy that they were behaving for Papaw and Nana. Silent tears fell fast down Jared’s cheeks as he repeated his earlier praises, reassuring them that they were good boys and had made him and Jensen both so proud. Jensen pressed kisses to all three, dropping them without reservation across their crowns, foreheads and cheeks, his own tears wetting skin and hair on each pass.

“What if Father comes back?” Teddy’s fear was palpable, vibrating off him in waves.

Jensen licked his lips, the two sides of his heart at war with one another – his protective side wanted to tell them that he would keep Timothy away forever, but the parent in him never wanted to lie to his children – at least, not over the big stuff; concession had to be made for Santa Claus and the Tooth Fairy. He deliberated on how to answer in a way to appease both halves, but Jared beat him to it.

“Teddy,” Jared sighed and shifted carefully on the bed. “I can’t promise that Timothy won’t come back,” Jensen resumed rubbing the twins’ backs when they started to shake, but didn’t miss that Jared had referred to Timothy by his name not as Father, “but your Papa and I will do everything in our power to keep you safe.”

“No only us,” Jensen added, “Uncle Chris, Uncle Mike, Uncle Tom, Penn, Milo, Sheriff Jones – they’re all gonna help make sure that Timothy doesn’t come near you ever again.”

The twins nodded their heads, but looked wholly unconvinced, and Jensen wished there was a way to take all of their fears and concerns away. He knew that time, love and devotion were the only things that would ever erase that anxiety and he swore that he’d give them all three in spades. He kissed them again, whispering that vow into their hair.

Jensen had once marveled at Jared’s ability to smoothly transition a conversation from one topic to another without the other person being aware of the change; had wondered if it was a talent he’d learned to survive life with Timothy and felt sick at the implication. Right now? He was just grateful as Jared stealthily shifted the twins’ focus from their fears and guilt and sorrow to the future and better times. He talked of them as a family – Jensen, Jared, Teddy and Benji – and the things they would do once he was better. There were promises of hikes and picnics and movie nights and Sunday cartoons cuddled under the covers. Jensen wasn’t sure, but he thought there was even the promise of a puppy somewhere in the middle, but at that moment he would’ve agreed to a whole litter just to bolster the tentative smiles that were forming on tear-stained cheeks. It was after faces were dry and spirits were higher that Jared turned questioning eyes to Jensen and received a fond nod in return.

Jensen shifted gingerly on the bed, gathering Benji in his lap, while Teddy maneuvered carefully to sit up at his daddy’s request. Lacing his fingers with Jared’s, he listened as Jared told the boys they had a surprise for them. Eager eyes dimmed slightly as young minds processed the notion of a new baby brother or sister, only to come back twice as bright with excitement. Jensen let out a relieved breath. He’d been fairly sure that the twins would take the news well, but he couldn’t quell the small fear that they’d feel jealous or usurped. Those qualms melted under the barrage of questions they fielded – the twins wanting to know everything from the baby’s sex (begging for a brother and not a sister) to when they could play with him or her. During a lull in the inquisition, Benji twisted his mouth to the side and furrowed his brow in thought.

“You okay there, Benji boy?” Jensen jostled the leg Benji was seated on, shaking the boy from his deep contemplation.

“So Rosie was right?” Benji looked from Jared to Jensen for confirmation.

“Rosie?” Jared quirked an eyebrow at Jensen who shrugged.

“Yeah, from school,” Teddy reminded them, seeming to understand what his brother was talking about. “ ‘Member? She said you get babies from wrestling, but Papa said she was confused and that babies came from storks. But she was right. You wrestled on the bed that day and now we’re gonna have a baby.”

Benji tilted his head and looked at Jensen speculatively. “You sure _you_ know where babies come from, Papa?”

Jensen’s eyes widened at the question while Jared laughed. His resultant groan of pain saved Jensen from answering by drawing the twins’ attention away from the subject at hand.

Robin came in at that moment as if she’d been waiting outside the door for the right time, and from the poorly concealed smile on her face, Jensen was sure she’d been there long enough to hear his knowledge of baby origins called into question. She gave Jared another dose of Tylenol, talking to the twins while he swallowed the pills, and reminded them all that Jared was still healing and needed his rest.

They stayed together for the afternoon, the twins blossoming under their Daddy’s presence, the anxiety and nervousness lifting from their faces with each moment spent in Jared’s presence. Jensen felt the weight of his own worry lift just watching them. When Jared’s eyelids started to droop again, Tom took the boys to give him a little bit of rest, Jensen assuring the guard that he was more than capable of protecting Jared. They returned an hour later with a card and a small plush frog dressed as a doctor and holding a chart that said “Hope you hop right back.” The twins had seen it in the front window of the gift shop and apparently no one was immune to their pleading, puppy eyes. Jared set it in a place of honor on the bedside table, just beneath the drawings the twins had made earlier in the week and the sonogram of Pear – as Jensen had gotten the boys calling the new baby much to Jared’s displeasure. Tom had bought a book as well, thinking that the family might like a few quiet moments and remembering the twins’ love of books. The boys bracketed Jared once again, holding the sides open and turning the pages as Jared read to them while Jensen sat at his place beside the bed and listened. Before the end of the story, small, tired eyes closed, the book following quickly after.

Jared and Jensen talked softly, not wanting to disturb the twins. They avoided heavier subjects in lieu of lighter ones – plans on how to keep the promises made to the twins for after Jared was released, themes for Pear’s nursery, ideas for the twins’ Easter baskets – and throughout it all Jensen’s hand never strayed from Jared, constant contact, proof that this was real and not a dream. They were discussing main dishes for Easter dinner – Jared opting for the traditional ham and enticing Jensen away from turkey with talk of the sides that he could make to accompany it – when Robert and Frankie burst into the room. They immediately crowded around Jared, just like Jensen, the need for tactile confirmation that Jared was alive and well too overwhelming. They clung to him and Jensen watched with an aching heart as Robert sobbed over his son, tenderly touching his bruised face and casted limbs. The twins weren’t the only ones who had reached their limit.

All-in-all it had been an emotionally draining day and Jensen had his worst battle still yet to fight – forcing the twins to leave Jared and come home. It had taken almost a half hour of coaxing and promising to calm their hysterics and convince them to leave. Thankfully, they fell asleep on the way home and he was able to change them for bed and tuck them in without them waking.

He padded his way down the hall toward the sound of rumbling voices. Chris, Tommy Lee and Sheriff Ford were seated in the living room, tumblers of amber liquid in their hands. The three men looked weary, Jared’s attack and Cohen’s death affecting them as well.

“They go down okay?” Chris asked, offering a half-filled glass to him as he entered.

“Yeah,” Jensen paused to take a sip, savoring the flavor and the welcome burn. “All the excitement today wore them out.”

“I was glad to hear that Jared woke up today,” Ford smiled and Tommy Lee nodded his agreement. “I’m sure that takes a load off your mind. Listen, Jensen,” he leaned forward and set his glass on the coffee table, “I never got a chance to tell you how sorry I was about all this and…”

“I appreciate the sentiment, Sheriff,” Jensen sat his glass on the end table and rested his elbows on his knees, “but I think right now I’d just like to hear where you are on catching the bastard.”

Instead of looking offended, Ford nodded and pulled some files from the briefcase sitting by his feet. “The last activity on Olyphant’s credit cards were the day after Cohen’s death and his Mercedes was found abandoned outside Littleton. There were bloody clothes in the trunk, but no gun. We’ve frozen all his bank and charge accounts so he’s operating strictly on cash now – I’m assuming what he had on hand and what help he’s managed to find. We’ve searched all of his property holdings and interviewed his business acquaintances and friends. Nobody’s seen him or if they have they’re not talking. Guy has gone completely off the grid.”

“I didn’t realize he had the kind of skills needed to go to ground like that?” Tommy Lee picked up the report on the abandoned car and began flipping through it.

“He doesn’t,” Chris growled. “He got through school on his father’s name and the help of his friends. He’s not that savvy, unless he’s learned some truly appreciable skills.”

“Not from what we can find,” Ford agreed, “and I think his friends will be a little less willing to help now that they know he’s under investigation. Everyone associated with him or his business is under scrutiny and the threat of prison time for being an accomplice tends to try loyalties.”

“You can charge them as accomplices?” Chris asked, brow raised.

“We can try,” Jones smirked.

“We do think he’s working with an accomplice.” Ford looked over at Jensen. “The information Cohen gave you regarding your problems in Chicago mentioned that Olyphant had a private investigator on retainer. A guy out of Atlanta named Mitch Pileggi.” He pulled a photograph from a folder with Pileggi’s name on it and set it on the table. “I had one of my men do some checking and found out that before Mr. Pileggi became a private dick, he was quite the public offender. He did hard time for a laundry list of things including identity theft, forgery and fraud.”

“Sounds like a valuable man to know if you were on the run and needed to disappear,” Tommy Lee passed the report to Jensen.

“Exactly,” Ford handed the picture over to Chris when the other man motioned for it. “We issued an APB on Pileggi.” He shuffled the files on the table and picked up two, handing them to Tommy Lee and Chris who were seated closest to him. “I used a little pull I had with the boys in Forensics and was able to get the crime scene stuff fast-tracked. The only blood at Jared’s belonged to Jared and Olyphant. Due to the nature of the attack, a rape kit,” Jensen flinched at the word and Ford soldiered on, “was conducted when Jared was brought into the ER. The specimens were sent to Denver and are just waiting for Jared’s say-so to be processed.”

Tossing a crime scene photo of Matt Cohen’s body on the table, Ford continued, “Cause of death on Cohen was a single GSW to the head, a .38 caliber at close range. We didn’t find any guns registered to Olyphant, Jared or Cohen, but you said he pulled one on you the night of the attack, right Jensen?”

Jensen looked up from the file that Chris had passed him to nod before leafing through the Medical Examiner’s report on Cohen’s autopsy.

“Hopefully, when we find him, we’ll find the gun as well. A leather jacket was found at Cohen’s apartment and blood spatters on it,” he paused for a moment to gauge Jensen’s reaction, “belonged to Olyphant, Jared and Cohen, linking both crimes. Olyphant did a good job of wiping down Cohen’s place, but our analysts found traces of Olyphant’s blood in the grooves of the sink handles and a partial fingerprint on the faucet.”

“Was it good enough to get a match?” Tommy Lee traded folders with Jensen.

“Yep,” Ford picked up his drink and took a deep swallow, “Fifteen points, enough to be admissible in court. Cohen’s cousin,” he checked some handwritten notes on a legal pad, “Richard Speight, has been contacted and he should be here tomorrow to claim the body. Apparently, the two were raised like brothers and were very close. He’s demanding answers.”

“He should be,” Jensen agreed, speaking for the first time. “Olyphant needs to answer for what he did to not only Jared, but to Cohen too.” He tossed the folder in his hand down on the table and rested his elbows on his knees, leveling Ford with an even stare. “I think it’s time we discussed some ground rules.”

Ford squared his shoulders, “All right.”

“I’m willing to let your department be lead dog on the manhunt, but just know that I’m not going to sit idly by and do nothing. I know legally I can’t be involved and I won’t interfere with you or your men, but I expect to be informed of any progress that is made on this case. I have some resources that I can tap, privately, and promise to let you know if anything comes from them. Full disclosure, both ways. Can you live with that?” Jensen’s voice was calm and serious.

Ford studied him for a few minutes before slowly nodding. “Yeah, I can live with that. I really didn’t expect anything less. I’d do the same if it was my wife and children.”

“Make no mistake though,” Jensen’s voice hardened. “The safety of my family is my number one priority. If I feel for one second that you are not giving this investigation the attention it deserves, I will make my concerns known.”

“Understood,” Ford said solemnly.

“One more thing,” Jensen added, picking up his tumbler and leaning back.

“Yeah?”

“When you find the bastard, I want to be with you when you bring him in.” Jensen took a sip of his drink. “Y’all get the cookie for the collar; I just want to be there.”

Ford made a thoughtful face. “You been reinstated?”

“Actually, he has,” Tommy Lee spoke up, reaching into back pocket and pulling out Jensen’s badge. “Got the all clear just this morning.”

Jensen nodded. “Jake called me on my way home to see how Jared was doing. He said Chicago PD has filed charges against Pellegrino for coercion and falsifying records. He’s looking at jail time and is willing to talk about Olyphant’s part in everything for a reduced sentence. He did it strictly for revenge on me. He’s got no reason to protect Olyphant. Jake also said that they’ve indicted a few high ranking police and judiciary officials that were in on it too.”

“What about Ed?” Chris shifted in his seat, crossing his leg over the opposite knee. “Does he just get away with what he did?”

“All he did, _technically_ ,” Tommy Lee was trying to tread carefully, knowing that Ed was still a sore spot for both Jensen and Chris, “was start a bar brawl. He wasn’t directly involved in Jared’s attack or in Cohen’s death so we have nothing to charge him with. Don’t worry though. Everyone in town knows what he did. Small towns love their gossip and I haven’t exactly sworn my deputies to silence. Nobody is going to turn their hand over to show him any kindness. I expect him to pack up and leave before long.”

“Still doesn’t seem right,” Chris grumbled, Jensen shaking his head in disgust.

“No, it doesn’t, but…”

“But, nothing,” Chris interrupted, a little louder than he intended. “Should’ve let Steve get a few more hits in that night.”

“Papa!”

Jensen’s attention snapped to the partially open door down the hall. He quickly set his glass down and, with an apologetic look, made his way toward the bedroom.

“Big day for them,” Tommy Lee remarked, gesturing to the bedroom door. “Jared waking up and all.”

“Yeah,” Chris sighed, glancing down at Jensen’s discarded glass and noticing that only a quarter of it was gone. “Jensen said it was a pretty emotional day for everyone. They told the twins about the baby. He said they took it really well…provided the baby is a boy.”

Tommy Lee and Ford smirked. An electronic bing echoed in the room and Ford shifted to pull his phone from his pocket. He frowned at the screen before his thumb tapped away.

“My wife,” he smiled ruefully, tucking his phone back into his pocket. “Apparently, my presence is requested at home. If we’re done here, I think it best I head that way before she has my hide.”

“We’re good,” Tommy Lee assured him. “Go home, you whipped thing, you.”

“Takes one to know one, Tommy,” Ford winked. “Tell Jensen that I’ll call him tomorrow to set up a time to interview Jared.” He gathered his things, grateful that no one, especially Jensen, realized he never agreed to let Jensen go with them when they brought Olyphant in.

“Will do,” Chris saluted with the hand wrapped around his drink. “Drive safe.”

Tommy Lee and Chris watched the other man leave, the sound of the fire popping and cracking in the grate and Jensen’s soothing voice down the hall creating a peaceful calm in the room.

It was Tommy Lee who broke the quiet first. “How is your project coming?”

“Good. With the reinforcements, I think it should be ready by the time Jared is released from the hospital.”

“I take it there was a lot of work to be done?”

Chris stared at the dancing flames and took another swig from his glass. Licking the remains from his lips, he spoke, eyes never wavering from the fire. “That house is like something out of ‘Sleeping With The Enemy’.” He shook his head and swallowed. “The towels were all stacked precisely, edges justified and folds pointing the same way.” His mouth turned down in a frown. “There were locks on the pantry and timers on the television. The cans on the shelves in the kitchen were all facing forward, alphabetized left to right and exactly a quarter of an inch away from the front. I measured.”

“Some people just like things to be orderly,” Tommy Lee argued though it was half-hearted.

“All the hangers in the closet were spaced the same distance apart and the shoes were lined up evenly, all in color order,” Chris spoke over him, voice gaining in volume as he went. “The pictures of Jared and the twins had been taken down – I found them in a pile in the back of a closet. The twins’ room was spotless and there wasn’t a toy in sight.”

“Chris,” Tommy Lee hissed in warning, the younger man’s voice bordering on too loud. He shot a quick glance down the hallway to where Jensen’s soothing voice could be heard.

“Before when it was Jared and Jensen and the boys, it was a home,” Chris lowered his voice, eyes sad. “It was filled with so much love and caring that it practically glowed. Now, it’s just a house. A place to lay your head.”

“But you’re fixing that, right?” Tommy asked, more of a reminder than an actual question.

The corner of Chris’ mouth quirked up and he nodded. “It’s the least I can do.” He tilted his head in the direction of Jensen and the boys, listening to Jensen’s comforting tone as the twins’ distressed ones lessened. “You know all this,” he gestured his hand at the splay of files on the coffee table, “is a moot point if Jensen finds Olyphant before Ford.”

Tommy Lee snorted. “If any of us do.” The two men exchanged a significant glance, understanding passing between them, as the sound of Jensen singing the twins back to sleep drifted through the air.

 


	25. Chapter 25

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay. I was in the middle of moving. Chapters should be coming with more frequency now. If I didn't respond to your comment from the previous chapter, I apologize. I got too far behind and couldn't keep up. I do cherish your comments and promise to be more prompt in my replies!
> 
> Also, see the link at the bottom to view the wonderful art created my the magnificently talented Imogen_lily!

The Impala lumbered down the dirt driveway, rolling over each divot and mound as it made its way to the farmhouse at the end. Jensen hadn’t been down the pocked entrance in seven weeks – partly because he hadn’t wanted to and partly because Chris had forbaddin it – just the memory of the last time he’d been here enough to make him shudder. He parked next to Chris’ well-loved Chevy and smoothed his hands over the sun-kissed leather of the steering wheel. Taking a fortifying breath, he slowly released it and reached for the door handle. Staring at the house he’d once considered home – his heart held safe within the clapboard walls until someone had robbed him of that security, stolen his heart and taken his soul as an added bonus – he retrieved the brown paper covered package from the back seat and slowly made his way to the door.

The package was unwieldy and he had to balance it on his knee to free a hand so he could open the front door, the dimensions blocking all but the glass inlaid wood from his view. Kicking the door shut behind him, he lowered his burden and nearly dropped it from shock-numb hands. Jensen’s heart thudded in his chest and his breath caught. He blinked his eyes wondering wildly if this was a vivid dream, the sight before him surprising in its familiarity.

“Chris?” It came out weaker than he intended so he cleared the shock muffling his voice from his throat and tried again. “Chris!” He carefully set the package on the floor, still fearful he’d lose his hold on it. “Christian David Kane!”

“Jesus, Jenny! Hold your horses, I’m coming.” Chris’ voice floated down the stairs, preceding the man as he descended, and Jensen’s mind was so addled by what he was seeing that he didn’t protest the nickname.

Long hair secured back in a loose ponytail and a red paisley bandana tied over the crown of his head, Chris sauntered down to the main entry wiping paint splatters from his hands with a damp rag, completely unperturbed by Jensen’s alarm. Stepping up to stand shoulder-to-shoulder with his best friend, Chris nudged Jensen with his elbow. “So, what do you think?” He jutted his chin toward the living room.

Wide-eyed, Jensen shook his head, words lost under the jumble of emotions. “What…How did you…,” he breathed and when the sentences wouldn’t complete themselves, his lips curled into a disbelieving smile. “It’s perfect.”

“Not yet, but this should do it.” Chris reached out for the package, sliding it along the floor so it could lean against his legs.

“No seriously, Chris. This is…” Jensen swallowed, “This is…amazing. I can’t believe you did all this.”

Chris shrugged. “It wasn’t just me. The whole damn town helped. There were a few days there where so many people showed up, I had to turn some away.” He huffed a laugh, smile fond at the memory of people begging for him to find them _something_ to do.

“But…I mean,” Jensen hand flailed helplessly, the erratic motion meant to encompass everything around him.

“Oh. A lot of phone calls and a shit ton of Steve’s charm. Apparently, my people skills need some work.” Chris winked.

“Can’t imagine,” Jensen smiled.

“It’s not all done, you know. There’s a room upstairs that I thought you’d want to do yourself,” He jerked his head sideways to indicate the stairway.

Jensen’s smile grew into an excited grin and he raced up the stairs two at a time.

 

J2J2J2J2J2J2J2J2J2J2J2J2

 

Jensen gently placed a stack of shirts in one of the chest drawers, passing his hand over the top one to straighten the fabric. He turned to his suitcase and grabbed the last pile, settling them in next to the first. Tugging open the uppermost drawer, he haphazardly tossed in balled up socks around his neatly folded boxer-briefs. He held the final pair in his hand and stared into the bottom of his luggage at the items remaining, lying innocuously against the gray satin liner. Without looking, he tossed the socks in the direction of the open drawer and carefully lifted two sheets of stationary, one pristine and the other slightly crumpled from spending time in a battered backpack, and a glossy piece of cardstock.

Timothy’s taunting ‘I WIN’ made his stomach curdle with rage, but it was Jared’s tear-stained note, begging Jensen’s forgiveness for Jared’s self-sacrifice, that made bile rise up in his throat. Holding them side-by-side, Timothy’s strong, confident lettering compared with Jared’s shaky, emotion-laden penmanship – one man’s victory, the other’s defeat. The wedding announcement, slick to the touch after the gritty feel of the heavy stationery, had been delivered to Jensen’s address in the days after Jared’s attack and discovered nearly a week later when Jensen finally sat down to sort through the piling up post. It showed a stilted picture of Timothy and Jared and elegantly stated in cream letters on a black background how pleased Olyphant was to tell the world of his engagement to Jared. All of the residents of Wowakan had received them. It had been a gut shot to the whole town; everybody still reeling from Jared’s abuse and then to open their mail and find the beloved man’s tormentor laying claim to him in 14 point type. Jared’s brother, Gavin, had called when he received his and the two of them decided it was best if Frankie and Robert didn’t see it. They’d suffered too much heartache at Olyphant’s hands and both men vowed to prevent any more if possible. And everyone involved, literally _everyone_ , had come to the consensus that Jared should never know the announcements existed. Shredders had been brought out of the back offices of nearly every establishment in town – Firewater, Sam’s Diner, Beaver Hardware, Collins General Store, Ackles Creamery, the Sheriff’s office – and placed at the front for the sole purpose of allowing people the satisfaction of watching the cardstock be minced to confetti. Jensen wasn’t entirely sure but he thought the one in his hand may be the only circulated copy left and even though he longed for the catharsis that destroying the damned thing would bring, he needed to hold onto those emotions. He needed the reminder.

Even knowing that Jared was safe, with him, Jensen had been irrationally angry over the elegant announcement, knowing it was just another way that Olyphant tried to make Jensen suffer, force him to see his failure. Jensen would have to congratulate Olyphant if he saw him again – correction, _when_ he saw him again – it had done its job. It forced him to see his failure and he was going to use it to fuel his wrath.

Jensen’s eyes traveled past the edge of cardstock to the one lone thing still left to be unpacked.

Taking the papers in one hand, he reached in with the other and picked up the object between his thumb and forefinger. He rocked it back and forth, staring calculatingly, taking in the way the light glinted off at different angles. He let cold metal encircle the tip of his index finger, holding his hand out to look at the damnable, gaudy thing. He hated it…and everything it represented. The pain and suffering it had caused and the multitude more its mere presence ensured. A life of misery sealed with a wedding vow. He palmed the ring and flitted his gaze from it to the pieces of paper clutched in his other hand – a fourfold reminder of what he had left to do.

“Jen?” Chris’ tentative knock pulled him from his musings of vengeance and Jensen curled his fingers around the platinum circlet. The diamond dug into the soft flesh of his palm, the pain welcome and grounding.

“Yeah?”

“We need to be heading in if we’re gonna make the weekly update.” Chris seemed to understand that he’d interrupted something and had the wherewithal not to ask.

Jensen snorted, tucking the mementos under his dress socks. “Yeah, can’t be late for my weekly dose of ‘we don’t know shit’.” He slammed the drawer shut, the force rocking the chest back and forth on its legs.

“Jensen, everyone’s…”

“Save it,” Jensen shook his head and bit at the inside corner of his mouth. Licking his lips, he faced his friend. “I know. Okay? I know,” he nodded to emphasize his point. “Ford’s men are looking, the State Police are looking…Hell, I called in a favor to Manns, so the freaking FBI is looking. Everyone’s doing their best. It’s just…” Jensen’s voice trailed off, eyes unconsciously moving, as they were want to do when he was in this room, to the spot where he’d found Jared barely alive.

Chris studied his long-time friend, knowing where Jensen’s memories were taking him. He stepped closer until he could lay a hand on Jensen’s shoulder. “Maybe moving back in here wasn’t such a good idea.”

Jensen stared unblinkingly at the floor on the far side of the bed, the phantom stench of sex and blood filling his nose and the echo of rattling breaths vibrating in his ears. “I didn’t want to,” Jensen confessed quietly. “Thought it would be too many bad memories for…for all of us, but Jared insisted. He said that this was their home… _our_ home,” he quickly amended repeating Jared’s inclusive words, “and we should take back everything that he stole from us. Everything that was ours.”

Chris squeezed Jensen’s shoulder. He hated seeing the other man so upset. He tried to think of something to say. What was there he could say? _It’ll be okay_? Fuck that. Olyphant was still on the loose, nothing would be okay until that bastard was either in jail or in the ground. _It’ll just take time_? Hell, that sounded too trite.

“Jared doesn’t even ask anymore,” Jensen rubbed a hand over his forehead, voice whisper soft. “It’s like he knows. Resigned himself to it.”

“Knows what?” Chris murmured, feeling if he spoke any louder that he’d break whatever this was.

“That we aren’t going to find Olyphant.” The hand scrubbed down his face, resting cupped over his mouth. “That the only way we’ll ever see him again is when he comes back for Jared.”

Chris was silent for a long moment. “You really think he’ll come back?

Jensen stared at the closed drawer, thought of Olyphant’s taunting words, and nodded slowly. “Yeah, I do. He wants Jared, but, more than that, he wants to beat me. I think he’s holed up somewhere biding his time, waiting for his chance.” He reached over and adjusted the framed picture of him, Jared and the kids on the top of the dresser. “Waiting to try and take my family away again.”

“Jensen,” Chris forced Jensen around to face him and grasped the younger man’s other shoulder. “No one in this town is going to let anything happen to Jared or those boys.” Chris shook him hard when Jensen looked at him with unconvinced eyes. “Do you hear me? Nobody. This town don’t take to strangers that well. Trust me, I’ve been on the receiving end. The only reason people tolerate my ass, even after all these years, is because of you and Steve.”

Jensen rolled his eyes, knowing full well that the town loved Chris. They’d just been a little wary of the ponytail and bad boy aura when he first hit Wowakan, but he’d fit in so easily, meshed with the small town dynamic they had going that, today, most people didn’t remember Chris wasn’t born here.

“But Jared and the twins?” Chris continued on, ignoring Jensen’s eye roll. “The townsfolk love them. Love them like their own family. Olyphant tries to come after them again and I promise you, he’ll have to go through everyone in Wowakan to do it. He took us by surprise last time. It won’t happen again. _I_ won’t let it happen again.” Chris’ fingers tightened, ten little points of pain serving to stress his resolve.

Jensen reached up and clasped his hand around Chris’ wrist, squeezing it affectionately. “ _We_ won’t let it happen again.”

“You know,” Chris began hesitantly, “if he comes back and we catch him, he’s just slimy enough that he might slip through prison bars. Any lawyer worth his salt will demand a change of venue, saying that Plains County and those neighboring her are biased.”

“I’d thought about that too.”

“If we want him gone, gone for good so Jared and the twins never have to worry about him again,” Chris swallowed, “we may have to take things into our own hands.”

Jensen stared that the picture. “I’m okay with that.”

“You sure, Jen? You really think you could do that?” Jensen knew his friend well enough to see the reason for the line of questioning. Chris was of the same mind, understood and agreed on what had to be done, but wanted to make certain Jensen had thought it out.

Glancing down at his sock drawer, Jensen nodded slowly. “Yeah, I’m sure.”

 

J2J2J2J2J2J2J2J2J2J2J2J2J2J2J2J2

 

Jared sat down on the bed and frowned at the pasty skin on his right arm and leg. The casts had been removed the day before, leaving Jared with plaster just around his significantly more injured left forearm. He wiggled the toes and fingers on his newly uncasted appendages, deciding that the milky complexion was a welcome trade-off for the freedom. He reached over and grabbed his pair of jeans from the bed, reveling in not only being able to wear them again, but actually put them on himself. Not that having Jensen help him get dressed daily hadn’t been fun, but as the weeks had passed and his body healed, Jensen’s hands on him had his body reacting in ways not conducive to hospitals. Of course, that didn’t matter anymore. After fifty-two days of sterile walls and noisy halls, Jared was finally being released.

Jared fought his way into his shirt one-handed and tugged it down over his shoulders, hands smoothing the material over his small baby bump. He rubbed soothing circles over the distended flesh and smiled at the tiny nudge he received in return. At seventeen weeks, it was a little early to be feeling significant movement, but three days ago Jared had gone from barely noticeable butterfly wings to harder to ignore bumps. Even though Jensen had yet to feel anything, they were both ecstatic. Movement meant their little one was alive, movement meant everything was okay. They’d had a scare a few weeks back – spotted blood on the sheets throwing them into a panic – but it stopped and watchful eyes had deemed it nothing to worry about. Weekly scans showed a growing fetus, thriving, just as Jared was, on the attention and pampering Jensen was showering them with. To their great surprise, the baby was in a cooperative mood during yesterday’s exam and Kim could barely contain her excitement when she asked if they wanted to know the sex.

_“Do we?” Jared tore his gaze away from the image on the screen to look over at where Jensen sat in his normal place, one twin straddled over each thigh. His heart warmed at the awed eyes that met his in triplicate._

_Jensen blinked, unprepared for the question. His eyes widened and his shoulders gave a stunned twitch that was supposed to be a shrug. “I don’t know. Do we?”_

_Jared smiled, “Whatever you want.” He’d been through all this with the twins – had the whole new baby experience – but Jensen never got the chance. Jared was more than willing to let him be the one to decide. If he wanted to know the gender then they’d find out, if not, then he’d happily wait until the delivery room._

_“Um…” Jensen looked at everyone in the room, biting his bottom lip. “Maybe?” He blushed when Kim laughed softly._

_“Not really a ‘maybe’ question,” she teased._

_“Deputy,” Jared leaned over and tapped his finger against the plush flesh still trapped between unforgiving teeth. “It’s up to you. I promise, I won’t be upset either way. If we find out today, we can make the nursery gender specific. If you want to wait then we’ll do it in something neutral.”_

_At the mention of the nursery, Jensen went strangely quiet and Jared frowned. Past fear tickled at the base of his neck and made him shiver. Swallowing, he pushed it aside and stared at Jensen expectantly._

_“What do you two munchkins think?” Jensen jostled his legs causing the twins to bounce up and down. “Want to know whether Pear is going to be boy or a girl, or do you want it to be a surprise?”_

_Jared rolled his eyes and relaxed back on the bed, smirking at Kim as he awaited the answer he knew was coming. His sons had the patience of…well, children, and he was fairly certain their answer would reflect that._

_“Now, now, now!” The twins chorused together, bouncing from their own excitement._

_“Okay,” Jensen grinned, secretly glad the boys had chosen to find out. He liked the concept of it being a surprise, one of the few still left in this world, but he also wanted to know. Ignoring Jared’s knowing expression, he beamed at Kim. “I guess you better tell us then.”_

_Kim’s smile was wide and affectionate. She’d grown fond of the little family during the past few weeks and held a special place in her heart for the new addition she got to see grow during the weekly exams. It nearly broke her heart when she’d been called to do an emergency scan because Jared had developed some bleeding. She adjusted the transducer and froze the screen. “Well, gentlemen, I’m pleased to announce that you are going to have,” she paused for dramatic effect, “a little princess.”_

_Jared and Jensen’s faces erupted in mega-watt smiles while the twins’ fell in disappointment._

_“A little girl,” Jensen breathed. He loved the boys, wouldn’t trade them for the world, but the idea of a Papa’s Little Girl made him almost giddy. “Did you hear that, Jared? We’re gonna have a little girl.”_

_Jared turned tear-filled eyes toward him, the same goofy grin on his face that Jensen knew was on his, but before he could speak Teddy interrupted._

_“You sure it’s a girl?” The small boy whined, head tilted to the side as he studied the display._

_“Pretty sure.” Kim refrained from pointing out on the screen where the telling piece of anatomy was lacking, thinking that it might be inappropriate for the young boys. “You’re gonna have a sister, boys.”_

_“A sister?” Benji echoed, making a face._

_“Yuck,” the twins said in unison._

_“Hey,” Jensen dug his fingers into their ticklish sides, “you might think that now, but I bet when she gets here, you’ll change your mind.” Met with disbelieving faces, he continued. “I thought the same thing as you when I found out about your Aunt Kota.”_

_“So did I with your Aunt Aubrey,” Jared added, smiling his thanks at Kim when she handed him a warm washcloth to clean the gel from his stomach._

_“And now look how close we are with them.” Jensen nodded at Kim when she made a showing of placing the new ultrasound pictures on the table and motioned toward the door that she was leaving._

_“But Aunt Kota and Aunt Aubrey are cool!” Benji argued._

_“Your sister will be cool, too,” Jared shifted his shirt back down to cover his abdomen. “Trust us. You have nothing to worry about.”_

_Both boys looked mutinous but reluctantly nodded._

_Jensen leaned over and picked up the newest picture in their rapidly expanding collection, staring at the tiny white words that Kim had added. GIRL. His eyes got wide and he chuckled softly to himself._

_“What are you laughing at?” Jared peered at him curiously, helping the twins climb up on the bed and get situated so they could cuddle with him._

_“Just thinking,” Jensen’s smile grew across his face. “Our moms are gonna be beside themselves. Their first granddaughter!”_

_“You’re right,” Jared laughed out loud. “God help us! We’ll be covered in dresses and bows.”_

_The two men continued to good-naturedly tease back and forth at their mother’s expenses completely missing the dark look that crossed Benji’s face and the worried one on Teddy’s._

They’d decided to wait until this weekend, Easter Sunday, to make the announcement to their family and friends. Jared’s entire family was coming in for the holiday, bringing the Padaleckis together for the first time since the Christmas right after the twins were born. Frankie and Robert had stretched their stay as long as possible to be with Jared while he recuperated, but they had lives of their own and Robert couldn’t leave his business unattended for too long. Frankie had cried at the thought of leaving her son and his children when they still needed her, but Jensen promised to take good care of the small family. It took one look at the determination in his eyes, the depth of the love he felt for Jared, the twins and the new baby to allay her fears. She’d left knowing they were in the best hands possible with a promise to be back to see the twins open their Easter baskets. Aubrey and Gavin’s arrangements to come had been made back when they when they were unable to come at Christmas and were considered the highest priority in their busy lives after Jared’s attack. They’d barely gotten used to the idea of Jared being back in their lives and before they could take advantage, they’d almost lost him.

Jared stood, tentatively placing weight on his right leg, still cautious of the newly mended bone, and pulled his duffel closer to finish packing. Jensen and the twins were supposed to be there any minute and Jared wanted to be ready to go when they arrived. Jared had never had an aversion to hospitals – the association with death and sickness people felt entering the banal halls, the foreboding that nothing good ever came from the place – but he would definitely be glad to go home. He snugged his toiletry bag down between the few pairs of clothes he’d had with him and carefully picked up the stack of papers that had been under the small kit. The twins’ vibrantly colored pictures contrasted sharply with the black and white ultrasound photos as he oh-so-carefully tucked them in the waiting duffel.

Home. Taking one last look around, he tugged the zipper closed and thought about that word. Home. Seven and a half weeks of nothing but bad primetime sitcoms and even worse daytime talk shows had given Jensen and Jared plenty of time to talk. Some conversations had been easy, straight-forward with both men agreeing from the jump. O _thers_? Others had them going round and round, rehashing the subject from the ground up time and time again. Enrolling the kids back in school…easy. They were seated in Genevieve’s class two days after Jared woke up. Deciding where they were going to live…not so much. There was never yelling, no screaming or hurtful words – neither could stand to be on the giving or receiving end of such anger – but words had been spoken passionately, a deep need to make the other understand their feelings on the subject. Jared gently countered Jensen’s fear of bad memories with his hope of creating good ones, phoenixing their dreams for the future from the ashes left by the nightmares of the past. He’d pleaded with Jensen, telling him that he’d loved the farmhouse from first sight and that if Jensen truly refused to let Timothy take anything more from their family, he shouldn’t allow him to take the home they’d made. In the face of Jared’s logic and unable to ever say no to the man, Jensen caved. Jared knew it cost his boyfriend to make that concession, the vision of the carnage Timothy had left in his wake ever present in Jensen’s mind, but Jared vowed to make the farmhouse theirs again, make Jensen and the twins happy there once more.

The twins. That had been one of the _other_ serious conversations that Jared and Jensen had merry-go-rounded. It wasn’t so much that they disagreed as it was they didn’t know how to handle the situation. Both wanted the twins to know their true parentage, take away the worry that _Father_ would come back and reassert his claim on them, but the issue lay with how to explain false paternity tests and a deceit that seemed mind-boggling to most morally guided adults to a set of six-year-olds. They had to handle it delicately and with a juvenile perspective in mind. Jensen had already broached the subject with Teddy that quiet morning before Benji’s meltdown, but it hadn’t come up again. The boys hadn’t voiced any more fears about Timothy, and Jensen’s role as Papa in their lives and in their minds was iron clad. However, both Jensen and Jared were well aware that just because the boys didn’t talk about their concerns didn’t mean they weren’t there. The old saying about still waters could have been written about those two. For such young minds, they had old souls – a wisdom guarded innocence. They’d seen too much of this world in their short years in it to childishly forget their worries and trust in faith. Jared prayed that he and Jensen could one day give them the childhood they deserved, the innocence that all little ones should share.

Jared had stopped asking for news on the search for Timothy, seeing the self-imposed failure in Jensen’s eyes each time he had to say that they weren’t any closer to apprehending the vile man. Jared wasn’t surprised. Timothy had infinite resources and a network of less than scrupulous associates to help him cover his tracks. If he didn’t want to be found, he had lots of holes to hide in. That is, until he decided to come back for Jared. And Jared knew he would. Timothy was a possessive bastard and he truly believed that Jared belonged with him, _to_ him. He knew that Jensen and the rest of the Plains County Sheriff’s Department would do anything to protect him and the twins, but they couldn’t be with him all the time and Timothy had already proven that he could monopolize on the slightest opportunity. The thought of being back with Timothy had Jared’s heart racing and his breath coming out in panted gasps, panic threatening to progress into a full attack. The only thing that could hold the fear back, keep the panic from developing into a full attack, was the reminder that Jared refused to be the same man that had opened the door to find Timothy standing on his doorstep. As much as his being hospital bound had given him and Jensen time to talk, it had given Jared time to think. He’d fought back, given his sons the chance to run, and he damned well planned to do it again. It was that new determination that led him to talk to Chris about teaching him to shoot. Jensen would gladly do it, but Chris would have the detachment to be strict, make sure Jared learned his lessons. It was time Jared began protecting himself.

He sat in the chair by the window and looked out at the warm, spring day. Verdant green covered the ground and dripped from every tree bough, replacing the snow-stunted browns. Nesting birds dotted the foliage, chirping their joy as the searched for material to nestle their eggs, and flowers stretched toward the sun, soaking up the nourishing rays after the bleak winter. Rebirth at its finest. It was a good day to start a new life and Jared was beyond ready.

Knuckles rapped on the open door frame and Jared turned to see Jensen leaning against the casing, arms crossed, and watching him with a fond smile on his face. “Ready to go?”

“More than,” Jared stood and grabbed his bag. Frowning, he looked around to see that Jensen was alone. “Where are the twins?”

“Momma’s,” Jensen smiled, deftly taking the bag from Jared. His hand skimmed over the bottom swell of Jared’s stomach, saying hello to his daughter. “She’s going to bring them to the house after while. I thought it might be best if we go there by ourselves first.”

“Good thinking,” Jared nodded, sighing. Jensen was right. As much as Jared wanted the kids with him to bring him home, it might not be a good idea to have them there for the first trip back to the house. If being there conjured up too many ill thoughts, Jared would have time to calm himself before he saw the kids. He pressed his good hand to Jensen’s chest and kissed his softly. “Thank you,” he breathed when their lips separated.

“For what?”

“I know you really didn’t want to go back to the farmhouse and that you’re doing it to make me happy…so,” he shrugged, ducking his head slightly, “thanks.”

“Jared,” Jensen curled his fingers around Jared’s and pressed them harder to his chest, the feel of his steady heartbeat tapping against their combined hands. “I would do anything for you.” He kissed the palm of Jared’s hand. “Let’s go home.”

J2J2J2J2J2J2J2J2J2J2

Jensen rolled to a stop beside the mailbox, the block letter spelling out OLYPHANT on the side painted over with PADALECKI and the long driveway to the house laid out before the front bumper of the car. He shifted, turning to face Jared in the passenger seat, and smirked mischievously. “Close your eyes.”

Jared looked up from where he’d been staring at his denim-covered thighs, fingers unconsciously picking at the seams running down the outside, and raised a curious eyebrow. “Jensen,” the corner of his mouth jerked up in a twitchy smile, “I’m nervous, sure, but I’m not scared. Plus,” the smile stretched into something more genuine, “closing my eyes hasn’t worked since I was a kid.”

Jensen rolled his eyes. “Trust me, okay?”

Jared looked directly into Jensen’s eyes and breathed “always” with such sincerity that Jensen was taken aback for a moment before Jared’s eyelids dropped, breaking the connection.

Jensen slowly made their way down the driveway, watching Jared instinctually reach out and grab the door when they moved over a particularly deep rut. Putting the car in park, he teased Jared about peeking then quickly got out and rounded the car to open the passenger door.

“Is this really necessary?” Jared joked good-naturedly when Jensen placed his hands over Jared’s eyes.

“You’re fine,” Jensen reassured and ushered Jared up the steps to the front porch. By the time they reached the door, both men were laughing from stumbling and tripping over each other’s feet. Jensen could see the flush of joy down Jared’s neck and wanted to remove his hands to see his boyfriend’s face tinged with rosy happiness, but refrained, hoping the look of surprise would be even better. “Reach out and open the door,” he commanded softly, pressing a kiss to the back of Jared’s shoulder.

 

J2J2J2J2J2J2J2J2J2J2J2J2J2J2J2J2

 

Jared’s fingers only trembled slightly as they wrapped around the knob. He turned it quickly and pushed the door inward, smiling fondly at the squeak that he’d never gotten around to fixing. He allowed Jensen to guide him forward, hands stretched out slightly for balance, something becoming more elusive as his pregnancy advanced. He didn’t know what Jensen had up his sleeve, but he could hear the excitement in the other man’s voice and refused to do anything to dampen it.

Jensen stopped them a few feet inside the door, somewhere in the middle of the foyer by Jared’s estimation, and reminding Jared once more to keep his eyes closed, dropped his hands and moved back. Jared felt vulnerable, standing alone in the middle of the room with no bearings on exactly where he was or what was around him, but as soon as he started to feel uncomfortable, Jensen’s finally told him to open his eyes.

Jared blinked, the early morning sun streaming in through the windows bright after just those few minutes of darkness, and looked around then blinked again. From where he was standing, he could see into the living room and he felt his face slacken in surprise.

Gone were the minimalistic furnishings that Timothy’s designer had filled the house with, replaced with the furniture he’d carefully picked out, the items that had been given to him, that had made the place his home. The walls were back to their warm colors, the stark white a distant memory, and the newly installed carpet had been pulled up to reveal Jared’s beloved hardwood flooring. He spun around, gaze landing on the age worn side table he’d refinished, once again in its proper place in the hallway, and just beyond that the dining room table he and Jensen had found in an antique store near Littleton before Thanksgiving. He shuffled toward the kitchen and pushed the swinging door, stopping in awe at the sight of the stainless steel gas appliances he’d watched wheeled out to make room for Timothy’s preferred electric ones. Stunned, he made his way back to the hallway and a smiling Jensen.

“What…” He swallowed, mind overwhelmed with emotion. “How…”

“Chris,” Jensen answered. “Well, him and Steve. They organized the whole town. They’ve spent every free moment out here trying to put the house back right. Wouldn’t let me near until just a few days ago. Said they wanted it to be a surprise for the both of us.”

“They shouldn’t have.” Jared wandered around marveling at his newly restored home. It looked just as it did the night Jared and Chris sat on the couch watching _Iron Man_ , joking and laughing. Just like nothing had happened. “Your friends are too much!”

“ _Our_ friends,” Jensen corrected, coming up behind where Jared had paused in the living room and looping his arms around the pregnant man’s waist.

Jared shook his head, leaning into Jensen’s embrace. “I can’t believe they did this. Even the furniture.” He rubbed his hand over the back of the couch. “How did they get it all back?”

“That was all Steve,” Jensen laughed. “He called that company Timothy hired to do the design and renovations and apparently his southern charm made quite an impression on the office girl, Rebecca. He found out that Timothy gave your old stuff to the company and told them to do whatever they wanted with it. The owner had it shoved in their warehouse waiting to set up an auction. Steve convinced the owner to trade it out for the things they’d just installed here. Dude was ecstatic, said that modern crap was a huge seller and would bring in more money than your things.”

“That’s amazing,” Jared murmured, hands coming up to rest over Jensen’s. Everything was back where it belonged, even the picture frames on the walls. Timothy had destroyed Jared’s family pictures but it looked like Chris had filled the empty glass with copies taken by other people. He squinted at one of the mantle he’d never seen before – him and Chad at Christmas – when he noticed that not everything was exactly as it had been. His eyes drifted up to the light oak frame, the non-glare glass and the indigo matting.

“Pollux,” he gasped, circling around the end of the couch to approach the picture, Jensen’s arms letting him go to explore. Jared ran his fingers along the simple frame, brushing the bottom right corner where his name was signed and the picture was numbered. He knew that this was one of his most famous works, the one to catapult him into stardom, and had heard that copies hung in several different celebrity’s homes, but this one right here was different, special. It was the first, the original, the one he’d seen with Jensen hanging at the SCAD show in Oglethorpe Square the night of their first date. He turned to see Jensen watching him with suspiciously wet eyes. “Where did you get this?”

“Bought it a couple years back while I was still in Chicago. I was walking down the street and saw it in a gallery not far from my apartment. Cost me a small fortune, but I had to have it. It was over my fireplace at home, but I thought it was more fitting here.” Jensen stepped up beside Jared and they both turned their attention to the stormy sea photograph. “Sorta full circle, I guess.”

Jared stared with unblinking eyes. “It hung in my bedroom at Timothy’s. It reminded me of you. When Timothy had my things moved into his room, it was gone. I asked about it and was told he’d sold it to cover some of the twins’ hospital expenses. I never thought I would see it again.”

Jensen gently pulled Jared around and cupped his face between his palms, kissing him softly. “Come on. There’s something else I want to show you?”

Jared chuckled wetly. “Not sure I can handle any more surprises today.”

“Come on,” Jensen repeated, taking Jared’s good hand and tugging him from the room.

They went up the stairs, passing the master and twins’ room, both looking like before, and stopped in front of the closed door to the spare bedroom. Jensen dropped Jared’s hand and gestured with his chin for the younger man to open the door. Jared glanced at him suspiciously, but quickly turned the knob and entered the room, stopping dead in his tracks once he was over the threshold.

The once generic guest room had been transformed into a jungle themed nursery. A massive tree was stenciled in one corner, its branches stretching out along the adjoining walls. Decals for various animals were placed along the cream colored walls – giraffes, rhinos, lions – and green grass sprouted up from the newly stained baseboards. Monkeys hung from the tree branches and vines that were painted around the room. A large tan shag rug monopolized the floor in the middle of the room, cushioning the unforgiving hardwood into something suitable for playing. The furniture was antique and stained dark further lending a warm, cozy feel to the room.

In the corner opposite the painted tree, above an aged rocker, were four black and white pictures. A giraffe grazing leaves from the upper branches of a tree, a monkey captured mid-flight as it jumped from one branch to the next, a lioness lying on a rock with a set of cubs playing in front of her and a large elephant standing proudly in a clearing with its trunk held high, all captured in high-definition and framed in dark wood. Jared’s eyes traveled from one shot to the next, mind traveling back years and miles.

_Jared was standing in the nursery staring at the theme Timothy had picked out, thumb unconsciously petting over a fleece onesie held between his hands. It was the first time he’d been allowed in, the interior designer that Timothy had hired wanting to reveal the room only when it was finished._

_“What’s the matter, love?” Timothy came up behind him and pressed a light kiss to Jared’s neck. The pregnant man had become more receptive to small shows of affection and Timothy was taking it as a good sign that once this whole pregnancy business was over, Jared would be willing to resume their physical relationship._

_Jared shrugged away, turning to face him. “You don’t think this might be a little too…grown-up for a nursery?”_

_Timothy frowned, looking around the newly completed room. The twin cribs sat against one wall, their black finish contrasting sharply with the stark white walls, a changing table snuggled between them. The white bedding looked crisp and pristine through the dark slats of the railings. A dresser in a similar finish sat on the opposite wall and a large, stiff cushioned wingback chair, black with white piping, monopolized one corner. The valances matched the upholstery, and paired with the unframed prints dotting the walls, a white geometric shape surrounded by a field of black, added to the room’s overall minimalistic feel. The decorator had promised a nursery fit for the cover of design magazines and had most certainly delivered. “I don’t think it’s too grown-up. It’s elegant. You don’t like it?”_

_Jared looked down at the onesie in his hand, finger tracing the smiling monkey face on the seat of the romper. “I just thought we were going to do the jungle theme. Use some of the pictures I took when Chad and I went to the Atlanta Zoo.”_

_Timothy’s jaw tightened at the reminder of Jared taking off with Chad for four days last month to accompany his friend for an interview. He hated that blonde idiot, barely tolerating the man because he was the only one of Jared’s friends that Timothy felt wasn’t trying to fuck Jared behind his back. “I told you I refuse to have such a juvenile theme for the nursery. This room is a part of the apartment as a whole and needs to fit into the overall décor.”_

_“But Timothy,” Jared continued, pressing a hand to the side of his stomach, “they’re children. Shouldn’t their room be juvenile? Can’t you make an exception for the nursery?”_

_“Enough, Jared!” Timothy snatched the onesie from Jared’s hand. “We’ve already talked about this and I refuse to argue over subjects that are closed.”_

“Hey?” Jensen’s soft voice brought Jared out of his memories. “Where’d you go?”

Jared smiled and shook his head slightly in answer, brushing away the question. He wandered to the crib and ran his fingers along the top rail, ghosting over the nicks and gouges earned from daily use.

Jensen stepped up to Jared’s side, hand on the small of the pregnant man’s back and face concerned as he watched Jared reverently touched the furniture. “It’s my old baby furniture. Momma never gets rid of anything.” He rolled his eyes.

“Dad helped me refinish it,” he added when Jared didn’t say anything. The silence stretched on, Jared’s fingers moving back and forth over the rail, and Jensen began to worry that he’d made a monumental mistake. “If you’d prefer something new, we can go over to Denver one day and…”

“No,” Jared cut him off with fingers against babbling lips, his voice a raspy whisper, “it’s perfect.”

Jensen took Jared’s hand in his and pressed a kiss to his fingertips. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” Jared nodded. He looked back at the crib. “It’s beautiful. Y’all did a great job on it.” Bending over to run a finger down the face of a lion on the quilt, Jared noticed the design above the bed. He frowned at the vine painted over the crib with what appeared to be three monkeys dangling from it, a larger one flanked by two smaller. He moved closer to examine the odd shaped animals and realized they were created out of handprints, the thumb acting as the head, the palm for the body and the four fingers as legs. A curly tail had been added to complete the effect. Written above the largest, in Jensen’s neat script, was the word PAPA and the two smaller ones each bore the name of a twin.

“Is that…?” He reached to trace his fingers over the monkey family.

“Yeah,” Jensen nodded. “The boys wanted to do something for the nursery and Gen told me about this art project she used to do with her pre-schoolers. We left room for one more hand.”

Jared nodded, emotion stealing his voice.

“So, do you like it?” Jensen asked uncertainly.

“No,” Jared replied looking solemn before his face broke out in a wide grin. “I _love_ it! Deputy, I can’t believe everything you and our friends have done. The whole house…it’s just unbelievable. I couldn’t imagine a better homecoming.”

“Well, there was one more thing that I hope will add to it.” Jensen fidgeted nervously, hand coming up to rub the back of his neck.

“What?” Jared laughed. “I can’t think of anything that you haven’t already done.”

“Well,” Jensen started, nerves spiking.

“Jensen,” Jared said sincerely. “Don’t be nervous. It’s just me. I can’t think of anything that I wouldn’t absolutely love.”

“Sure hope so,” Jensen murmured. He took Jared’s hands in his and led him to the middle of the room. “Jared, I love you.” He could see that Jared was going to return the sentiment so he plowed on. “Seven years ago, I walked away from you and made the biggest mistake of my life. For some reason fate decided to give me a second chance, even though, I don’t deserve it. It brought you back into my life and gave me two wonderful sons and, now,” he dropped Jared’s hands and placed his own on Jared’s baby bump, “it’s giving me a daughter. I have everything I could ever want except one thing.”

Jared had tears glistening along the lower edge of his lids and he licked his trembling bottom lip. “What’s that?” He whispered.

Jensen dug a hand into his pants pocket and pulled out a simple gold band inlaid with three diamonds. “This ring belonged to my Papaw. He gave it to me just before he died. He said that this little ring had seen him and my Nana through fifty years, had witnessed the good times and bad, been there as their family grew with children and grandchildren and great-grandchildren and was with him when he held her hand and said good-bye.” Jensen licked his lips. “He told me that if I ever met a man that I loved as much as he did my Nana that he wanted me to give that man his ring because he knew it would bless my marriage like it did his.”

“Jared, I love you,” he repeated himself from earlier. “I love you and our family with my whole being. Those two weeks without you were the longest and hardest of my life and I realized there is no me without you.” He rubbed the hand still resting on Jared’s belly. “All of you. So, the only thing I could want is to have what my grandparents had: good times and bad, children and grandchildren and great-grandchildren and to be holding your hand when one of us leaves this life for the next. I guess what I’m asking is…” He fell to one knee, ignoring Jared’s gasp as held Jared’s uncasted hand in one of his and held up the band in the other. “Jared Tristan Padalecki, will you marry me?”

 

[Art Post](http://jcrgirl.livejournal.com/53533.html)

 


	26. Chapter 26

 Time passed in silence, measured in the accelerated pace of heartbeats.

Jensen shifted uneasily on his knees, the question hanging in the air and weighing the room with expectation. “Jared?”

Jared stared at the circlet of precious metal and stones, Jensen’s words filling his mind and heart. “Hmmmm?” He answered, absently, attention completely focused on that little band. Hypnotically, his finger reached out and carefully traced the golden arc protruding up from Jensen’s fingers, the ring body-warm from Jensen’s pocket.

It was so simple, so unpretentious. It didn’t need flashiness to convey the level of commitment it represented. Masculinity was clear in the understated design, the three small diamonds – past, present and future all lined in a row – only added to the subtle beauty. Jared’s fingernail caught in a small nick that the jeweler had missed in the buffing process, a testament to the years of wear, of service, this ring had already seen. It was the perfect personification of the man holding it – beautiful, strong, timeless.

“You think you could maybe answer the question and put me out of my misery?” Jensen chuckled, nerves lending a slightly hysterical edge to the sound. Seeds of doubt were starting to bloom, taking root in his mind. Maybe Jared wasn’t ready for this. It had only been two months since his tragedy of an engagement to Olyphant and there was the possibility, one Jensen hadn’t considered until right this moment, that the entire ordeal had turned Jared off of the institution of marriage completely.

“What? Huh?” Jared pried his eyes from the ring, hand falling away. He could plainly see the worry and fear in Jensen’s eyes and swallowed down an incredulous laugh. Jensen was actually concerned he was going to say no. “Yes,” he blurted, the laugh slipping out despite his efforts. “Of course, it’s yes. I thought the question was just a formality.”

“Thank _God_!” Jensen’s heart exploded with joy, his smile spanning ear-to-ear. He carefully slipped the ring tenderly on Jared’s recently healed finger, and lurched to his feet, arms enveloping the other man as his lips caught Jared’s in an exuberant kiss. He peppered Jared’s smiling mouth with kisses, a genuine, elated laugh vibrating both of their lips and tickling the flesh. There was a soft nudge against his stomach where they were pressed together, so light he almost missed it. It happened again.

Jensen pulled back, arms still wrapped around Jared, and looked down to the rounded swell of Jared’s baby bump. “What…was that…?” His hand drifted to Jared’s middle, eyes filled with wonder.

Jared smiled and adjusted Jensen’s hand, sliding it lower and a little to the side. He pressed slightly against the wide palm, the warmth of it seeping through his shirt, and waited. A few seconds of patience was rewarded when he felt the strangely thrilling sensation of being kicked from the inside. Jensen’s eyes got impossibly wider and laughter bubbled up. “I think we got your baby girl’s kick of approval.” Jared winked, shifting Jensen’s hand again when Pear moved to a different spot.

Jensen stared open-mouthed at his hand, Pear’s staccato burst kicks thumping against the calloused palm. Jared could plainly see the dumbstruck expression and could understand it. It was one thing to abstractly know you were pregnant and entirely another to feel the baby kicking and moving. Irrefutable physical proof that the baby was real. Fighting back a grin, his face twitched with the effort. “You okay there, Deputy?”

Jensen lifted his eyes, had to force his fascinated gaze away from Jared’s belly, and gave the other man a goofy grin. “She’s really in there.”

Jared almost choked holding in his laugh, snorting instead. “I sure hope so or I’m never swallowing another watermelon seed.”

“Laugh it up, fuzzball,” Jensen mock scowled. “You can’t ruin this for me. My daughter and I are having a moment.” He knelt down in front of Jared, hands cupping the slight swell, and lifted Jared’s shirt to press his lips to the skin.

“I wouldn’t dream of it,” Jared sighed, raking his fingers gently through the older man’s cropped hair.

“Hey, baby girl. I felt you.” Jared closed his eyes and smiled in contentment as Jensen whispered to their unborn child, his stubble scratching over Jared’s belly and setting the nerves alight. He continued to smooth over Jensen’s hair, movements faltering when Jensen began to sing quietly. “Baby mine, don’t you cry. Baby mine, dry your eyes.”

Jared’s vision went blurry as Jensen crooned on about heads on hearts and eyes that sparkle and shine, oblivious to Jared’s reaction. Jared didn’t know it could be like this. From the moment he knew the twins existed, he’d made certain that they never once, even in utero, doubted he loved them. He’d read to them, sang to them, professed his love to them, but never once did Timothy ever show them any level of affection. He’d refused to touch Jared’s belly and only spared it a thought long enough to communicate his disgust at its ever increasing size. In public, Jared often found himself jealous of the other pregnant people he saw, envious of their attentive partners with possessive hands on prominent swells and adoration in their expressions. He’d wondered what it would be like to have someone who cared about his aches and pains, catered to him, supported him physically and emotionally. Even though he knew Timothy would never be that kind of man, it didn’t keep him from longing for it. And now, with Jensen, he’d gotten everything he wanted back then, and it was so much more than he could ever have imagined. Jensen was the consummate partner, patient with the emotional swings and accommodating to even the wildest cravings – Jared had recently developed an irrational love of bacon and ice cream…together. He watched Jared’s cues, anticipating his needs and providing them before Jared could ask, and he surrounded Jared and their little Pear in a blanket of love. It was infused in every word, every touch, unfathomable, unflappable, unfailing. It wasn’t only the depth of love Jensen showed Jared and their baby, but the amount he showed the twins as well. The devotion and love he showered on the twins, even before he knew their biological link, still blew Jared’s mind. He was their Papa and they were his boys. It was something the twins had never known before Jensen and the absence of it during those two weeks with Timothy had been devastating. It was something that Jared vowed to protect with his last breath if needed.

“But, you're so precious to me. Sweet as can be, baby of mine.”

His thoughts coupled with the sensation of two-day-old whiskers against his stomach had him half-hard and he tugged lightly on the hair at the back of Jensen’s head to get the older man to look up at him.

“What?” Jensen was uncertain, Jared’s face an odd mix of emotions that he couldn’t name. He felt the first stirrings of embarrassment at his spontaneous serenade. He hadn’t meant to start singing, but it had felt right, necessary at that moment.

Jared smiled and leaned down to press a mostly chaste kiss to Jensen’s lips. “Let’s go to bed.”

Jensen staggered to his feet, wincing at the protesting pop of his knees. “You tired?” He questioned in concern and did a quick check of his watch. “We have time for a nap before Momma brings the boys over.”

“Nope.” Jared shook his head slowly, walking backwards and leading Jensen out the door by his hand. “Don’t need a nap.”

“But,” Jensen’s steps faltered in his confusion, “I thought you said…”

“I _said_ ,” Jared interrupted, tugging a little harder to keep Jensen moving. “I wanted to go to bed.” His gaze turned heated, lids dropping to half-mast and smile sultry. “I never said anything about sleeping when I got there.”

Jensen stumbled to a halt just inside their bedroom door. “Are – are you sure?”

Jared quirked an eyebrow. “Yes, I’m sure.” His eyes narrowed in question. “What’s going on? Why would you ask that?”

Shrugging, Jensen avoided Jared’s too-perceptive gaze. “Just wanted to make sure you were up for it. That’s all.”

Jared pressed Jensen’s hand to his crotch. “Oh, I’m definitely up for it.”

Eyes fluttering at the feel of Jared’s arousal, Jensen swallowed and took a calming breath to keep his lust in check. “I don’t want to hurt you.” He pulled his hand out from underneath Jared’s and let it ghost over their daughter. “I don’t want to hurt her.”

“Deputy,” Jared cupped his cheek, “I’m fine.” He took the hand barely touching his belly in his other hand and flattened it to his stomach. “Pear’s fine. You were sitting right there when JD gave me the all clear. That was almost two weeks ago, so I’m think we’re good to go.”

He winced at the reminder of that particularly awkward conversation. It had been professional and clinical, but there was still something particularly mortifying about being given permission to have sex with your partner again by someone who treated you for every childhood ailment you’d ever had and went to the same church as your parents. Logically, Jensen understood that JD was aware that he had sex – Jared was pregnant with his child, for crying out loud, but it was something different all together to have a discussion about said sex life. Thoughts of JD weren’t able to distract him from the current issue.

“I know,” he breathed. “It’s just…” His eyes flicked quickly to the other side of the bed and he licked his lips.

Jared’s heart thudded at the furtive glance. He couldn’t imagine what it had been like for Jensen to come in and find him like that - broken, beaten and barely hanging on. He knew that it affected the other man deeply, could feel it in the desperate way that Jensen held him and the careful way Jensen watched him like he might disappear if Jensen wasn’t constantly vigilant. He didn’t have the words because anything he said would be hollow and placating. He couldn’t promise to never get hurt again, didn’t dare assure that he wasn’t ever going anywhere. Even without Timothy’s presence, life was too fragile, too fleeting, too unpredictable and oftentimes too cruel.

He dipped lower and caught Jensen’s lips in a kiss that started out tenderly but quickly turned heady. Jared could feel Jensen holding back at first and then, like a switch flipping, Jensen came alive. He took Jared in gently firm hands and pulled him close, tongue teasing against Jared’s lips before delving inside to lay claim. Between kisses and panted breaths, Jared could feel Jensen’s murmur against his skin. “Almost lost you, can’t lose you. Love you so much.” He answered each one. “Right here, always here. Love you, too.”

Jensen followed him down on the bed, a trail of clothes on the ground in their wake. His hands were reverent, caressing Jared from crown to hip, the touches especially tender over and around the swell of their daughter. He worshipped every inch of Jared, kissed his thanks for this man – his lover, his partner, the father of his children – into tanned skin as Jared gasped his gratitude for him to the heavens. They took their time, understanding that they both needed to reconnect, reforge the bond between them and restore their balance. Jensen slowly stretched him, taking his time until one became two and two was three, all the while ghosting his lips along the hypersensitive underside of Jared’s belly. Finally, Jensen lined up and returned home, Jared embracing him with a warm welcome, arms and legs and core surrounding him in love. Jensen blinked back tears to look down into equally liquid eyes. Gazes locking, he set up a rhythm as familiar as his own heartbeat, slow, deliberate rolls of his hips angled in a knowledgeable way. The emotions were too high and the need too strong for it to last, but it was perfect nonetheless. A reunion, a reuniting, a homecoming.

Afterward, when beats and breaths had slowed and synched and damp skin was slowly cooling in the afternoon air, they curled up together under the comforter, limbs entangled and fingers entwined. The conversation was exchanged in questioning touches and answering sighs, everything they wanted to say and needed to hear clearly spoken with eyes and hands. When Jared’s eyelids began to droop and his kisses turned lazy, Jensen coaxed him on his side and sidled up behind him. His arm created a protective cage around the younger man, security in skin and bone and will of heart, his hand spread wide and possessive over fluttering heartbeats and nudging kicks.

Jared turned his head to look at him over his shoulder, a sleepy smile curling his lips, and Jensen pressed a kiss to his jaw. “Sleep, Jare.” The _I’m here, you’re safe_ unnecessary.

Jared snuggled down into his pillow and quickly nodded off, the nervousness over facing the past and excitement about embracing the future taking their toll. Jensen laid awake for a little longer, fighting the lure of a warmth he’d been without for too many weeks, to just watch Jared as he slept. His lover’s – fiancé’s – face unlined as the darkness of the last few months slipped away in the promise of a brighter years to come. His lips fluttered feather-light against Jared’s face, neck and shoulder while his hand smoothed over taut flesh. He battled the weariness that had become like an old friend lately until finally he followed Jared into a peaceful slumber.

 

*****

“Daddy! Papa!”

“Boys, shhhh! They may be taking a nap.”

“Why? They’re grown-ups.”

“Only babies take naps.”

Jensen groaned and pried one eye open. The room was bathed in the orange tones of sunset and he lifted his head enough to see the alarm clock, surprised that they’d slept for several hours. Jared shifted, humming softly as he slowly drifted out of sleep. His movements brushed his ass over Jensen’s crotch, the humming morphing into a groan at the feel of Jensen’s now awake member. He began moving with intent, hips gyrating into little circle eights pressing with increasing pressure over Jensen.

Hand coming up to Jared’s bicep, Jensen’s eyes fluttered and he pressed his lips against Jared’s shoulder. “Later, love,” he smiled, laying his cheek against Jared’s shoulder. “Mom and the munchkins are here.” He dropped a kiss to the sleep-warm skin. “I’ll go on down. You come down when you get dressed.”

“Mmmkay.” Jared smacked his lips and rolled his hips one last time.

“Tease,” Jensen chided lightly, reluctantly finding his way out from under the blankets.

“Mmmhmm,” Jared agreed sleepily.

Shaking his head fondly, Jensen got up and rooted through the clothes littering the floor until he found his, tossing Jared’s on the bed. He nodded at the murmured thanks as he tugged his jeans on and pulled his shirt over his head. Walking over to the bed, he sat down on the edge when Jared rolled over to make room. The pregnant man still looked exhausted even after their nap and Jensen had to remind himself that JD said Jared would probably stay pretty tired. There were a lot of demands on his body - not only was he trying to provide for two, he was underweight and still healing from his injuries. “If you want to rest some more, I could probably hold off the boys for a little longer.”

“No, I’m up.” Jared yawned, jaw cracking at the stretch. “I want to see them.” He arched against the mattress and blinked his eyes wide to force the weariness away. He brought his hand up and swiped it over his face, the diamonds in his engagement ring winking as the sun struck the multi-faceted surfaces.

Jensen watched them glisten. “Hey,” he murmured, taking the hand in his and bringing it up to his kiss the warm gold. “What do you say we keep this between us for now?”

Jared’s body stiffened slightly and his eyes became wary. “You don’t want to tell anyone we’re engaged?”

“Just,” Jensen began but was interrupted by the younger man.

“No, I understand you not wanting people to know,” Jared sat up, tugging his hand free of Jensen’s grasp, and crossed his legs. He plucked at the sheet drawn tight across his knees, staring intently at the crisp linen. “It’s one thing to have pity on Timothy’s whore, it’s quite another to marry him.” His voice was quiet and sad, filled with resigned acceptance.

Jensen tried to swallow down his anger, but was unable to contain it all. He tucked his finger and thumb under Jared’s chin and firmly lifted it to force the younger man’s eyes on him. “Don’t you ever say that again!” He gently shook Jared’s head side to side. “Ever! Do you hear me? Didn’t you listen to anything I said when I proposed? I love you and I could never be ashamed of you. I am proud for you to wear that ring. You are not Olyphant’s whore or anyone else’s for that matter. You are mine. My lover, my partner, my fiancé, my everything and I can’t wait until the day I can say you’re my husband.”

“But,” Jared frowned in confusion, eyes still holding a hint of suspicion, and Jensen wanted to find Olyphant all the more for making Jared think something good always came with a catch, “you wanted to keep it a secret.”

“I wanted to keep it to ourselves for right now and tell everyone tomorrow at Easter dinner. That way nobody would know before anyone else. We could make it a big announcement. Tell them that we’re going to have a little princess,” his hand brushed over Jared’s middle before taking his hand again, “and that we’re going to get married and live happily ever after.”

Jared’s eyes became noticeably wetter, pooling tears shining in the dying afternoon light. He clasped Jensen’s hand tighter. “I – I’m sorry, Deputy. I don’t…”

“Jared it’s okay,” Jensen cupped Jared’s cheek with his free hand, “but you’ve got to promise me something.”

The younger man looked at him, a tear leaving a wet trail down his cheek. “Anything.” “You’ve got to stop thinking things like that about yourself. I know that he convinced you that you were worthless, but, Jay, it’s not true. To me and those two boys downstairs eagerly waiting to see you? You’re our world. The people of this town, your friends, they spent their free time fixing this house for you to come home to. They wouldn’t do that for a nobody. I know it will be hard.” And Jensen did know. Olyphant’s influence was deep-seated. He’d been working on it and there had been some improvements, but before Jensen could show Jared how wrong Olyphant was, the bastard had gotten back in again. “Being beat down for years can’t be overcome overnight, but I need you to at least promise me you’ll try.”

Tears were falling freely down Jared’s cheeks. “I promise,” he whispered.

“That’s all I ask.” Jensen leaned forward and kissed Jared tenderly. Sitting back, he swiped a thumb over the salty paths to clear them away. “Why don’t you get dressed then come down?”

“Kay.” Jared pressed Jensen’s palm to his cheek. “Thank you.”

“I love you, Jared. You don’t need to thank me.” He kissed him again.

“I love you, too,” Jared smiled. “Always have, always will.”

 

*****

 

Jensen smiled as Jared shut their bedroom door, an expression of absolute contentment on his face. The boys’ happiness had been palpable and they’d stayed close to Jared’s side the entire night. For the first time in months, Jensen saw the tension slide off their small shoulders and a return of the childish light that he’d feared extinguished in the wake of Olyphant’s return. Any lingering worries he’d had over returning to this house seemed silly in retrospect. Seeing Jared and the twins here in their home, being with them as a family again, was the healing balm to the wounds those weeks of separation and helplessness had inflicted on his heart.

They’d spent the evening on the couch just enjoying being together again. Karen had watched over them until darkness settled and it was time to collect the Padaleckis from the airport in Denver. Jared made a move to get up and accompany her, yawns interrupting his murmurs about finding a jacket. Exhaustion was clear in every line of his face and the droop of his shoulders, fatigue making his movements clumsy and awkward. He finally admitted defeat after the third time he unsuccessfully tried thread his arm into the sleeve of his jacket. Alex came to pick up Karen and they left laden with love and well wishes for the new arrivals.

After watching the Easter Beagle for the third time, they urged two sleepy-eyed boys up the stairs and into bed with warnings that the Easter Bunny only visited good little children who were already asleep. Standing in the doorway to the twins’ room and watching Jared lovingly tuck their sons into bed, Jensen was struck with an overwhelming sense of rightness and knew the universe was once again the way it was supposed to be. He’d helped an obviously drained Jared with his Easter Bunny duties. Carrying bowls of brightly colored plastic eggs, they found hiding spots, most in plain sight, with a few in more challenging places, in the yard and the house then laughed and joked while making muddy paw prints on the kitchen tile in a direct path from the back door to two ridiculously large and overly filled baskets. It was domesticated bliss and it was everything that Jensen wanted in life.

He reached out to Jared, who was still leaning against their bedroom door and looking more stunning than Jensen could ever remember him being, and tugged him close, an arm surrounding his growing waist to press them together as much as possible. He cupped Jared’s angular jaw, fingertips ghosting over that place behind Jared’s ear that made him shudder, and kissed him. He knew they were both done in, not enough energy between the two of them to fulfill Jensen’s promise of ‘later’, but he couldn’t resist. His emotions were running so high that he had to express it somehow.

He poured everything into the kiss – his gratitude, his joy and, most importantly, his love. He tapped deep into his reserves and gave it all the Jared, pausing only to take panting breaths. He slid his fingers up into Jared’s hair and gently fisted the silky strands. Looking deep into hazel depths, arm hugging him tightly, Jensen said evenly and heartfelt, “I love you.”

Jared had heard Jensen say those words so many times, as recent as this afternoon, but the seriousness of his tone and the look of absolute adoration and devotion in Jensen’s eyes caused his heart to stutter. Tears brimmed along his lids and his licked his trembling lip. “I love you, Jensen,” he returned the sentiment with just as much fervor and devoutness and leaned forward to give a kiss of his own. They lost themselves in the sensation of lips sliding against each other, neither pressing for more as both understood this wasn’t about sex, but about feeling.

Jensen pulled back and nuzzled Jared’s nose with his own. “Let’s get ready for bed. I’m pretty sure the boys will be up early.”

Nodding, Jared disrobed and climbed into bed, shifting until he found a comfortable position for his belly and casted arm. Jensen followed suit and slid between the sheets behind him, hand automatically going to rest over their daughter. Jared tilted his head back for a kiss goodnight then settled into the comfort of their mattress, reveling in the feel after so many weeks on a hard hospital bed. Jensen laid his head down, inhaling Jared’s scent with increasingly deepening breaths until both men fell asleep.

 

Art Post [by Phoenix1966 on LJ](http://jcrgirl.livejournal.com/55472.html)


	27. Chapter 23

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know it's been forever since I wrote anything so I'm not sure if anyone is still interested, but here is the next chapter...finally. As always love to my writing partner-in-crime, imogenlily, and a great big hug to my beta, phoenix1966.

Jensen could feel eyes on him and he shifted to his side, giving an exaggerated snore just to hear the giggles he knew it would earn.

“Sshh, Daddy said we hafta wait until the clock says 0-7-0-0.” Jensen smiled. That was Teddy. Just like Jared; always following the rules.

“What’s it say, now?”

“0-6-5-8.”

Jensen could hear Benji’s aggrieved sigh. “You sure he said 0-7-0-0?” His little man always looking for an out, testing all the way.

“Yeah. He says Papa is an ogre before seven. But,” Jensen bit back a smile, he could practically hear the gears turning. TJ always followed the rules unless his exceptionally bright mind could find a loop hole. “Papa doesn’t _know_ Daddy said to wait for 0-7-0-0.”

 _Nice_ , Jensen thought. _There’s my little mastermind_.

Another set of barely suppressed giggles warned Jensen of an imminent ambush and he decided to pounce first. “Who dares wake the Papa up before 0-7-0-0?” he rumbled, voice taking on the octave he used for villains in bedtime stories. Viper fast, he rolled over, one arm going around each twin, and tugged them up on the bed with him, squeals piercing the morning quiet. “Looks like two tender little boys. I bet you taste good.” He grabbed a foot from each boy and leaned in, hands shifting one set of toes in front of his mouth then the other. “Hmmm, which one first?”

The twins were red faced with their laughter, wiggling and squirming across the bed in the hopes of getting away.

“Yummy toes.” Jensen brought Teddy’s big toe closer to his mouth, watching the bedside clock from the corner of his eye. As the red numbers on the display switched from 6:59 to 7:00, he stopped and dropped their feet.

Smiling, he greeted them cheerily. “Good morning, munchkins. Happy Easter! Who’s ready to find some Easter eggs?” He slipped off the other side of the mattress and crossed to the dresser to find some clothes.

Benji and Teddy sat on the bed, blinking in confusion at the abrupt change. In unison, they looked at the clock.

“0-7-0-1,” Benji whispered.

“He is an ogre before 0-7-0-0,” TJ answered, awed.

Jensen smirked, turning around and pulling a t-shirt over his head. “Hurry up you two or I get to eat all the chocolate bunny ears.”

“Come on, Teddy,” Benji tugged his brother from the bed. “The ears are the best part.”

Shaking his head, Jensen followed them down the stairs. He was impressed that all the eggs were still in their hiding places, each nestled safely on a bed of plastic grass, and noticed the real, dyed ones that had been added that morning.

Pushing through the swinging door into the kitchen, he stopped, the door arching back to hit him from behind “Jared? What are you doing?”

Jared looked up from the eggs he was whisking, casted arm holding the bowl tight to his side to keep it from sloshing, and smiled brightly. “Happy Easter!” He pushed the bowl farther back on the counter and rounded the end of the island toward the scowling man. Draping his arms over Jensen’s shoulders, he kissed him. “I see my little rogue bunnies got you up and going.”

“Don’t try to distract me,” Jensen gruffed, hands coming up to Jared’s hips to hold him close. “What are you doing?”

Stepping out of Jensen’s grip, Jared returned to the other side of the island. “Making breakfast,” he shrugged, expression indicating he thought that it was obvious.

Groaning in exasperation, Jensen came up behind him, resting his forehead between the taller man’s shoulder blades. “You’re supposed to be resting,” he whined into the brick wall of flesh in front of him, rolling his head side to side. “I can make breakfast, you know.”

“I’m hardly exerting myself, Deputy.” Jensen could picture the eye-roll that accompanied the statement. “I’m just beating some eggs and, between you and me, the chickens on Austin’s farm are pretty pathetic. These things,” he lifted the whisk and let the yellow liquid drip from the metal wires, “barely put up a fight.”

“You think you’re funny,” Jensen groused, but had to keep a smile off his face.

“I know I am,” Jared’s smile brightened further, almost blinding. Setting the bowl aside, he leaned over the counter and kissed Jensen’s nose. “And so do you.”

“Yeah, yeah.”

 

*****

 

Jensen sat on the couch, a cup of coffee warming his right hand and thigh, while he watched the twins rifle through the candy and trinkets from their baskets. Sandy had done a good job on the baskets. She’d painted two old coffee cans from the diner and attached eyes and a nose to the side then glued laminated ears on the inside so they stood up. A rope handle made them easy for small hands to carry and the metal made them sturdy enough to stand up to the excitement of two boys. All in all they were really simple and, even Jensen had to admit, really cute.

Jared came in, a cup of tea in one hand and two cardboard boxes in the fingers of his casted hand. He paused for a moment, a fond smile on his lips as he watched Benji and Teddy show each other the treasures hidden in their plastic eggs.

“Candy away?” Jensen asked, patting the cushion next to him.

Sitting down, Jared sighed gratefully. “All hidden from nosy little and big,” he nudged Jensen with his elbow, “bunnies.”

“Hey, I only had two peanut butter cups!” Jensen winced guiltily at Jared’s four raised fingers and knowing look before sheepishly nodding his head in agreement. It had actually been five but he didn’t feel the need to correct the other man. He watched as Jared shifted on the sofa, seeking a more comfortable position. “You okay?”

“Yeah, just a little tired. I’ll probably need a nap before we head over for dinner.” He leaned forward and set his mug on a magazine on the coffee table. They had coasters but the damned things disappeared all the time, the twins incorporating them in their play and forgetting to return them.

“Good idea,” Jensen sighed, draping his arm over Jared’s shoulders when he leaned back.

“Here, Mr. I-only-had-two-but-it-was-more-like-five,” he handed Jensen one of the cardboard boxes. “The Easter Bunny brought something for you, too.”

Jensen set his mug down next to Jared’s and took the package, turning it over to find a solid milk chocolate bunny staring at him with a yellow candy eye through the cellophane. “I knew I was a good boy!” he crowed, tearing the end off of the box and sliding out the plastic tray molded around the treat.

“Yeah,” Jared shook his head in amusement, “I gotta talk to him about his standards.” Carefully, he unpackaged his chocolate bunny from the remaining box and bit off the ears with a sigh of contentment.

Jensen watched the simple pleasure on Jared’s face and, with a mischievous smirk, turned his bunny around, taking a large bite out of its rear end. Chewing, he plucked the earless bunny from Jared’s fingers with his free hand.

“Hey!” Jared protested, glaring mildly and Jensen had a passing thought about the sanity of taking chocolate from a pregnant person.

Holding out the bunnies, he turned them so they faced each other. He wiggled his bunny, the one with the bite out of the butt, making it talk to its confectionary compadre. “My a—“ green eyes flicked to the boys on the carpet and he amended, “butt hurts.”

Jared’s bunny, missing the ears, bounced as it responded. “What?!”

Jared let out a bark of laughter, snatching his bunny back. “Now, who thinks they’re the funny one?”

“I know I am.”

“Yeah, yeah.”

 

******

 

Jensen sat back and surveyed his parent’s yard, a glass of iced tea resting on the arm of his lounger. Much like Halloween and Thanksgiving, the Ackles’ yard was teeming with people, the entire town showing up to enjoy a day of fun and fellowship. Pastel on parade as women and men milled around dressed in their Spring Sunday best while children weaved through them like fast moving Easter eggs.

The Coopers had brought over a box of baby chicks from their farm, their high-pitched cheeps mixing with the laughter of the children huddled around trying to hold them. Benji was at the front, small hands curled around a wiggling ball of yellow fluff while Teddy watched dubiously from over his shoulder. Jensen shook his head in amusement, taking a sip of his drink.

“Looks like you might have the makings of a farmer in that one.” Austin plopped down in the chair beside him, chin jutting in the direction of Benji’s enamored face.

“Up until the moment it poops on him.” As if on cue, Benji grimaced and quickly passed the chick off to his unsuspecting brother, staring at his hands in utter disgust. Teddy juggled the small bird for a moment before hot potatoeing it off to Dalton.

“And thus ends a promising career in animal sciences,” Austin snickered. Looking around the crowd, he smiled at Jared, surrounded by his parents and siblings. “He looks good. Happy.”

Jensen followed his brother’s line of sight, gaze lighting on his fiancé. Jared was beaming, his entire body exuding such joy it was palpable even from this distance. “He is.”

“I’m proud of you, you know.” Austin elbowed him slightly, the ice in Jensen’s tea shifting against the sides from the jostling. “Figured it would be a long time before you let him out of arm’s reach.”

“At Halloween, Jared was so afraid to let the boys go play and I told him that if he held on to them too tight, he’d suffocate them.”

Austin pursed his lips and nodded. “Wise words. Maybe you’re smarter than I give you credit for.”

“Maybe too smart for my own good. I never thought it would come back to bite me in the ass.”

“You’re a parent, now, Jen. Everything you say will be used against you.” Austin tilted his head in acknowledgement and waved at someone across the way.

“So I’ve heard.” Jared laughed and the sound, so deep and carefree, turned Jensen’s attention back to the pregnant man. He’d loved Jared practically from the start, realized it not long after they began dating, but right then he felt it more deeply than ever before. It suffused his entire being, drowning him in the warm knowledge that Jared loved him back just as much, had agreed to marry him. Suddenly, it seemed too great a secret to keep any longer, too precious to keep hidden. “We’re getting married.”

“No shit?” Austin leaned forward in his chair, a happy grin tentatively spreading across his face as he waited for confirmation.

“Gave him Papaw’s ring yesterday. We were going to tell everyone today, but…” he shrugged.

Austin patted him hard on the shoulder. “So, I’m the first one to know? I’m honored, bro.” He used the grip on Jensen shoulder to tug him into an awkward hug over the arms of the chairs. “Congratulations, Jen.”

“Thanks.” Jensen sat back. “Just don’t tell Jared I spilled the beans before the group announcement. Might make the honeymoon over before it even begins.”

“My lips are sealed.” Austin folded his hands over his stomach, eyes drifting to Genevieve, sitting in the shade of a large elm tree and talking with Dakota. A small, fond smile graced his face. “Gen looks beautiful today.”

“Yeah,” Jensen agreed, sipping his tea.

“She’s practically glowing, don’t you think?” Austin cut his eyes toward his brother.

“That she is,” Jensen nodded, taking in the woman’s bright eyes and happy face.

Smile growing at the makings of a game, Austin pressed on. “I could use your help soon if you’re not too busy.”

“Sure,” Jensen’s gaze drifted from the dark haired woman back to Jared. “Whatever you need, you know that. So long as it’s not milking Mabel, I’m all yours.”

Mabel was the most persnickety cow in Austin’s herd and milking her was a true test of patience. When Jensen was helping out around the farm during his separation from Jared and the force, Austin had actually walked in on Jensen trying to reason with the animal. Every point that Jensen made was answered with a bored “moo” before Mabel turned, lifted her tail and showed Jensen what she thought of his argument. There was a video clip in Austin’s phone of that encounter just waiting for the perfect blackmail moment.

“Nah, nothing to do with the farm. I just have some old furniture I need to paint.” Austin waited to see if Jensen would take the bait and ask the next question.

“What furniture is that?” Jensen smiled as Jared’s large hand unconsciously came up and rubbed soothing circles over his distended belly, his own itching to help.

“Just some old things of Dalton and Hunter’s that need to be refreshed.” He tried to school his features into an innocent look.

“Old things of…” Jensen tore his eyes from Jared and frowned at his brother. “Dalton and Hunter don’t have any old furniture.”

“Yes, they do. It’s in the crawl space.” Exaggerating a sigh at Jensen continued confusion, he supplied, “you helped me put it there.” _Come on, Jensen. You’re supposed to be a gumshoe._

Getting slightly agitated at Austin, Jensen turned in his chair to completely face his brother. “What are you talking about? The only furniture I’ve helped you put in the crawlspace was from the nursery.” He stopped short, eyes going wide. “Are you…” He turned to look at Gen. “Is she…”

“Jeez, took you long enough!” Austin laughed, slapping Jensen hard on the arm and spilling some of his drink. “Some cop you are.”

“That’s…” Jensen’s ecstatic face dimmed slightly. He could see Austin’s happiness at the news but there was something else peeking around his brother’s joyous expression. “This is a good thing, right?”

“Yeah,” Austin answered immediately then, noticing the worried furrow of Jensen’s eyebrows, he repeated it, slower and with sincerity. “Yeah, it is.” Somberly taking a deep breath, his eyes went back to Genevieve. “I loved Tracey, Jen, and I – I didn’t think I would survive when she…” He nodded, swallowing thickly. “Not sure I would have if it hadn’t been for the boys,” he added so quietly the Jensen wasn’t sure he was supposed to hear.

Jensen licked his lips. Feeling eyes on him, he turned to see Jared watching them closely, concerned wrinkles creasing his forehead. A small smile and a head nod for reassurance had Jared reluctantly giving his attention back to his family. Austin was quiet beside him, head tilted slightly to the side and eyes taking in the woman laughing with their sister. Jensen understood guilt, had experienced it both in his professional and personal life and knew it for the killer it was, the slow murderer that took its time and enjoyed its work. He’d witnessed the horrendous things it could do to people, felt its fetid breath gusting against his neck as it whispered despairing things in his ear and offered permanent solutions to ease the pain, and refused to let his brother fall victim to it.

“Do you love her?”

Austin visibly shook himself clear of whatever thoughts were plaguing him. He blinked at Jensen a few times, his mind sluggishly turning the question over. “Yes,” he croaked. “With all my heart. The boys love her, too.” He shifted quickly in his seat to look at Jensen straight on, leaning forward to drive his point across. “She could never replace Tracey and I wouldn’t want her too, but the boys,” he shook his head and looked at his sons playing with the twins, “they’ve been through so much,” his gaze went back to Jensen, “they _deserve_ happiness, Jen.”

Austin’s eyes begged Jensen to understand, to not judge and Jensen did and never would. He cupped his hand over his brother’s forearm and squeezed. “You don’t have to explain yourself to me. You all deserve happiness, Austin. That’s not a crime.”

Austin swiped a hand down then back up his face, threading his fingers through his hair. “So help me, Jensen, if you tell me it’s what Tracey would have wanted…”

“I don’t have to tell you what Tracey would want. You already know. Tracey wanted a lot of things. She wanted to be healthy, to spend the rest of her life on that farm with you and watch those two boys grow up and have families of their own, but,” Jensen stopped, shaking his head. Sucking on his upper lip, he took a calming breath. “But more than anything else, she wanted you and Hunter and Dalton to be happy. You’re not forgetting about her, you’re just finding a way to continue living without her. And I know that Gen will make sure that Tracey’s memory is preserved and honored. Moving on doesn’t necessarily mean letting go.”

Chuckling wetly, Austin blew out a low breath. “Definitely smarter than I give you credit for.”

Bumping him lightly with his shoulder, Jensen smirked. “So when are you going to tell Mom about the baby?”

“Tell Mom about what baby?”

They both jumped as Karen Ackles’ voice rang out from a few feet away. Years raising three kids, especially the Ackles children, had given the woman preternaturally keen hearing. She hurried over to them with suspicious eyes. Over her shoulder, Jared was making his way to them, apparently not satisfied with Jensen’s earlier gestures that everything was okay.

“Uh, nothing,” Austin yelped, denial his first response to his mother’s questioning since he was old enough to talk.

Jensen huffed a laugh at his brother’s antics. He’d discovered long ago that lying to their mother was in the top three most heinous offenses you could commit and nothing, not even Jared at his maddest, could compare to the wrath of Karen Ackles. “Gen is pregnant,” he said simply, smiling sweetly at the indignant squawk of his name from the chair next to him.

Karen squealed in glee, just as Genevieve snapped out a sharp. “Joshua Austin Ackles!”

“Ooh,” Jared quipped, coming up beside a bouncing Karen, “full name.”

“It wasn’t my fault,” Austin jumped up from his seat. He pointed an accusatory finger at his brother. “Jensen’s the one that can’t keep his big mouth shut!”

The petite woman placed her hands on her hips. “And how did Jensen find out?”

Austin’s face fell, knowing he’d been caught.

“Busted,” Jensen sing-songed beside him, delightedly watching his big brother getting taken down a peg by a five-foot-nothing wisp of a woman.

“Jensen and Jared are getting married.” Austin fired back, a vengeful smirk curling his lips.

“Married!” Karen did a little dance, her hands coming up to cover her mouth.

“Jensen Ross Ackles!” Jared yelled over Karen.

“Crap, there goes the honeymoon.” Jensen stood and pulled Jared close to him. “Sorry, babe.”

People were starting to murmur, whispers of “baby” and “engaged” playing a version of telephone through the crowd.

Loud clapping cracked over the din and everyone turned to see Alex standing on one of the stumps that surrounded the fire pit, spatula in one hand and an apron with a white bunny on it cinched around his waist. “Well, I guess most everyone heard that the Ackles….and Padaleckis,” he gestured toward Jared’s family, “have gotten some good news today. For those of you in the back that may not have heard my beautiful bride, let me repeat. Austin and Genevieve are going to have a baby and Jensen and Jared are getting married.” He gave the crowd a moment to let their cheers die down. “Anything else that needs to be shared since I have the room, um, yard?”

He glanced around at the gathered people, their heads shaking back and forth with bemused expressions on their faces. He could tell that they were waiting for him to finish so they could descend upon his sons with congratulations. A hand slowly slid up from the back of the group. “Jensen?”

Jensen motioned for the twins to come to him and shrugged in Jared’s direction. “Might as well go for the trifecta.”

“We already know Jared’s knocked up, Jenny,” Chad hollered from his perch next to Penn on the back of the hay wagon.

Jensen barely contained himself from flipping the blond the finger. He knelt down when the twins approached and whispered something in their ear. Picking them up, he urged them on.

“Daddy’s having a sister!”

Laughs broke out from the crowd and the twins looked around, frowning. “Daddy’s having a girl,” Jensen corrected gently. “You’re _getting_ a sister.”

Karen squealed again and Jensen wondered if his mother could take too much more before passing out.

“Okay, then,” Alex had a broad smile on his face. It was a good day for his family. “Anything else? No? Carry on, people.” He jumped down from his stump and quickly made his way to his sons.

People clamored around them, vying for space to congratulate the Ackles boys. Karen and Frankie were talking animatedly about how nice it would be to have a granddaughter while Dakota and Aubrey lamented on losing the franchise as the only girls.

Several times, Jensen reached out and grabbed Jared’s hand, preventing people from carrying him away with their well-wishes. There was attempting to not be a hypocrite and then there was letting Jared out of his sight. He’d just stood straight from giving Genevieve a hug, kissing her cheek and telling her how happy he was for her, when he saw Benji slink around the side of the barn, the little boy’s shoulders drooping. Pulling away from the crowd, he promised Jared he’d be right back and then handed him off to Alex who kept telling Jared he had a surprise for him.

Jensen rounded the end of the barn to find Benji sitting on a hay bale, cradling one of the baby rabbits from the hutch out back. He held the brown rabbit gently in his lap and petted down the small animal’s fur.

Plopping down on the other end of the bale, Jensen smoothed his finger over one of the bunny’s ears. “Who you got there, buddy?”

Benji didn’t lift his head, but shrugged.

“Uncle Austin hasn’t named them yet, huh?”

Light brown hair swung back and forth.

Lifting the rabbit from Benji’s lap, he held it out in front of him. “Hmmm, I think,” he held the rabbit up higher, inspecting first, “she looks like a Gertrude. What do you think?”

He showed the bunny to Benji and felt a tinge of relief when a smile curved the corners of his lips as he shook his head again. It was a small win, but Jensen would take it. “Edna? Fannie? Clementine?”

Benji shook his head for each name, giggling.

Sighing, Jensen set the rabbit back down in the boy’s lap. “Well, I’m all out of ideas so why don’t you think about it and let me know? In the meantime, how about you tell me what’s bothering you?”

The giggles died and the smile vanished.

“Okay, then I guess I’ll have to guess.” He tapped his finger against his chin. “Is it because Gen and Austin are having a baby?”

A head shake.

Jensen’s heart beat a little faster. “Is it because your Dad and I are getting married?”

A vehement head shake.

Jensen released his held breath. “Is it Pear?”

A shrug.

_Bingo!_

“I thought you were happy about Pear?”

Watery green eyes blinked up at him, tears spilling over long lashes to track down chubby cheeks, and Jensen couldn’t not take him in his arms, bunny and all. “What’s the matter, Benji? I thought you liked Pear?” And he did. Once the twins had come to grips that they were having a sister and not a brother, they’d really taken to the idea. They talked to her and kissed her goodnight so Jensen was a little flabbergasted at this turn of events.

“I do,” Benji hiccupped.

“Then I don’t understand. What…”

“Everyone will like her best because she’s a girl.” Benji trembled, tears flowing harder now.

“That’s not true, Benji.” Jensen rubbed a hand up and down the small boy’s back.

“Uh-huh. Nana and Granny are talking about how nice it will be to have a girl and you and Daddy are so happy she-she-she’s a girl.”

“Benji boy,” Jensen sighed, petting the rabbit when it shifted position in Benji’s lap. “Nana and Granny are excited because they get to buy frilly dresses and headbands and ruffle socks. That doesn’t mean that they will like her better, just they like to go shopping. As for your Dad and I…well, we already have two perfect boys,” he kissed the crown of Benji’s head, “we kinda like the idea of having a perfect girl to go with them.”

Benji sat back and gave Jensen a skeptical look then he ducked his head again, mumbling something that Jensen couldn’t make out.

Chucking a finger under the kid’s chin, he lifted it up forcing a miniature version of his own eyes to look at him. “Want to try that again?”

“Will _you_ love her more than us?”

Jensen was taken aback. “Why – Why would you think that? I love you and your brother. Nothing is going to change that.”

“But she’s yours,” Benji said meekly, watching the sleeping bunny’s whiskers twitch. “So you’ll love her more.”

“Whatever gave you that idea?” He did his level best to keep his voice calm. If someone was telling the twins that Jensen wouldn’t love them after the baby was born, there would be blood.

“Read it in a book. It said that Mommies and Daddies love their children more than others. That its biogy.” Benji scratched behind the rabbit’s ears, forlornly.

“Bi-o-lo-gy.” Jensen corrected. He wanted to tell Benji that he and Teddy were his, too, but they hadn’t figured out how to tell that to the twins. Right now, Jensen didn’t care what the fall out would be so long as Benji never thought again that the twins meant anything less than everything to him.

“Yeah, that,” Benji agreed, nodding his head for emphasis. “She’s yours. It’s bi-o-lo-gy that you love her more than us.”

Wishing that Jared was here to help, Jensen got off the bale and knelt before Benji’s scuffed dress shoes. He tipped his head down to meet his sad glance. “You are all mine,” he stared hard into the little boy’s eyes, hoping to give his words more weight. He meant every word, even if his son wouldn’t understand the truth behind them just yet. “All three of you. No matter what anyone says, you…are…mine and I love you all the same. Always will.”

Benji watched him for a minute, shrewd green that had been lied to so many times before, scrutinizing him. After what felt like an eternity, Benji slowly set the bunny on Jensen’s vacated half of the bale and threw his arms around his Papa’s neck. “I love you.”

Jensen wrapped his arms around the boy, holding him close. “I love you, too.”

They stayed that way for a while, just holding onto one another, until Jensen playfully dug his fingers into the sensitive spot on Benji’s ribs. When the boy backed up, face flushed from giggles, Jensen picked up the bunny, a few strands of hay dangling from its mouth. “Why don’t you go find your brother and I’ll put Dolores here back in the hutch?”

“Not Dolores!” Benji made the same face he did when Jared tried to get him to eat broccoli. “Honey!”

“Honey?” Jensen stared down at his son. Benji’s face was completed devoid of its earlier turmoil and Jensen would name all the rabbits after condiments if it made him that happy. Plus, what could Jensen say, he’d nicknamed his daughter after a piece of fruit.

“Yeah! Honey Bunny!”

Nodding his head in understanding, Jensen patted Benji on the head. “Okay, I’ll put Honey Bunny away and you go play.”

“Okay!” Without a backward glance Benji took off around the barn, yelling for his brother.

Looking down at the rabbit, Jensen shook his head. “Well, that went better than I thought.” He absently rubbed a finger between the bunny’s eyes. It still irked him that Benji thought he wouldn’t love him and Teddy as much as Pear because the boy believed Jensen wasn’t his father. Someday, he was going to make sure that they understood the truth, but until then he would do everything in his power to make sure the boys never doubted how much he loved them. “All right, Honey Bunny, back you go,” he told the small animal, grunting as he stood from his squat. He carefully put the rabbit back in the hutch with its brothers and sisters and closed the latch.

Strong arms surrounded him, fiberglass catching on the fabric of his shirt and a familiar chuckle warming the shell of his ear. “You’re really getting this whole parenting thing down.”

Jensen turned and slipped his arms around Jared’s waist, kissing him lightly on the lips. “I feel like I’m barely treading water.”

“We all do.” Jared kissed him back, deepening it before pulling back. “Want some dessert?”

“Yeah. I think I saw your mother’s banana pudding,” he nuzzled Jared’s neck, hands running down Jared’s back and over his sides, thinking about a different kind of dessert later tonight.

“She made it especially for you.” Jared lifted his chin to give Jensen better access. “She knows how much you like it.”

Jensen felt a nudge against the palm when his hand ghosted over Jared’s middle. He bent slightly to get closer. “Does my little Pear want some of Granny’s banana pudding, too?”

“Nope,” Jared grinned. “She wants some of the surprise Papaw made just for her.”

“Dad? What did Dad…” His eyes widened, the phantom aftertaste of one of his father’s experiments rolling over his tongue and making him grimace. “He didn’t.”

“He did,” Jared answered almost gleefully. “Come on,” he tugged on Jensen’s hand, “and no trying to steal any of my bacon ice cream.”

 

 

 

 


	28. Chapter 28

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A new chapter FINALLY! I bet most of you have given up on me. Surprise, I'm still here and come bearing a ridiculously long gift! Forgive any formatting errors in the flashback at the front or anywhere else really. AO3 is giving me a fit tonight and the more I work with it, the worse it gets. I wanted to get it up as my way of being thankful for anyone still reading, so sorry...you get bad formatting. Unbeta'd because I kinda' disappeared for a LONG while on her and I'm embarrassed to ask her to do it now. As always, love is appreciated and comforts me that people still read this dribble. Co-written with the wonderfully talented Imogen_lily.

Jared breathed deeply, filling his lungs as full as they would get, and let it out in a slow, content exhale. The sun filtered through the leafy boughs of the oak tree overhead, warming his face and painting his vision coral behind the thin skin of his eyelids. A gentle breeze whispered through his hair, dancing the strands gently across his forehead. The magical sound of joy in duplicate was echoed in the vibrations against his back. He smiled softly letting the relative peace of this moment wash over him and suffuse his soul.

Hands rubbed the growing swell around his middle and a warm puff of air caressed his ear. "You look happy."

Jared arched his back and snuggled further into the cradle of Jensen's body behind him, a satisfied sigh escaping. "I am."

He could feel Jensen's smile against his temple as strong arms came up to envelope him. "Good."

The relief in Jensen's voice was palpable and welcome. Jared still had his bad days, but the good ones were beginning to outnumber them. He'd been home from the hospital for a week when Jensen finally broached the subject of Jared and the twins seeing a counselor. The resulting argument hadn't been pretty.

  ** _Timothy kicked him again, this time hitting his diaphragm and Jared gasped for breath as the muscle spasmed from the abuse. He clawed at the carpet, chest heaving      but not bringing in any air. Finally, the twitching muscle settled and he gulped in a ragged breath, the grayness around his vision from the lack of oxygen fading.      Timothy fisted his shirt, dragging him up, his arm raised for another punch._ **

_"Jared?"_

_The name called to him, beckoned him, but the pain clouding his mind had him shying away._

**_Timothy pulled his leg back for another kick and Jared forced himself to move, arms circling his torso to create a protective cage around his abdomen. Timothy didn't      stop his assault, dress shoe attacking the guarding limbs over and over, more cracks splitting the air. Jared brought his legs up, determined to protect his vulnerable      stomach. The kicks continued now running a bruising path up and down his shins._ **

_"Jared, please. I'm here. Come back to me."_

_The voice drifted through the fog, so tender and heartbreakingly sad, carrying with it promises of loving touches and soothing words. He paused to listen, wary of deceit      because even the devil's forked tongue could be coated in silver and he'd been fooled before._

     " ** _We'll, see how much your precious Jensen still wants you when I've finished with you," Timothy growled in his ear. Jared heard metal jangle, the rasping whisper of a      zipper, and he knew what was coming. He struggled harder and received a hard blow to the back of his head for his efforts_ **

_"Jared, love, please. I'm here."_

_The voice beckoned him. He fought to reach it, forced his way up and out of the cloying blanket of pain toward the safety so thickly infused in word and tone. Lashes      fluttering open, Jared gasped as his wild eyes took in his surroundings. Jensen was above him and off to the side, a wayward punch as nightmare melted into nighttime on a      previous evening had been an effective enough teacher to prevent him from hovering directly over Jared again. Jared could see the concern and fear evident on his lover's face      in the glow of the small bedside lamp that Jensen must have turned on, another lesson learned to help Jared's terror ravaged mind separate the room of his dreams from      the room of his reality. Taking a deep breath, he relaxed back into the mattress and tried to quell the trembling in his arms and hands._

_"Jared?"_

_"I'm fine." He swallowed and gave a shaky nod. "I just, um..."_

_Jensen's fingers landed gently on his arm, a shiver emanating out from it like pond ripples after a thrown stone. Sitting up quickly, the hand sliding off his arm to thud      against the bed, Jared swiveled his legs out from under the covers. Peering over his shoulder and through his bangs, he murmured, "I, uh, I need...bathroom."_

_He stood, swaying for just a moment, and headed to the bathroom. Inside, he gripped the countertop with white knuckled fingers and looked at his pale features in the      mirror. Pear was protesting his anxiety as loud as her little feet and fists could and he rubbed over her consolingly. Licking his lips, he closed his eyes and took a deep,      calming breath. Blinking them open, he nodded to himself. He splashed water on his face, drying it with the hand towel on the counter, and went back to the bedroom,      turning out the light as he exited._

_He stumbled to a stop. Jensen sat hunched over on the edge of the bed, elbows on his knees and head in his hands. Jared could see his fingers flexing and relaxing, pulling      the short strands at his crown rhythmically._

_"Jen?"_

_Watery green eyes looked up at him and Jensen shook his head as a tear slipped free to roll down his cheek. "We can't do this anymore."_

_All of Jared's composure went out the window along with his breath, his heart stuttering on a painful beat. "Wh-what?" It was barely an exhale, shaky and sorrow-ridden.      "Can't do what?" He forced himself to ask, not wanting to know the answer._

_"This?" Jensen waved a hand over the rumpled bedclothes. "The nightmares and the screaming and the not sleeping."_

_Spine snapping straight, Jared moved to the other side of the bed and began sorting the tangled sheets. "It was just a nightmare," he said, smoothing over the top sheet.      "People get them all the time." It came out more defensive that he'd intended. Sighing, he continued before Jensen could call him on it. "Deputy, I'm_ fine _. Really."_

_"No, Jared," sandy blonde hair rubbed along the neck of a worn cotton t-shirt as Jensen shook his head, "you're not. People do get nightmares, but when they come so      violently every night..." He bowed his head, looking at his clasped hands. "I think maybe it's time you talk with someone."_

_"Someone?" Jared froze and stared at the other man's tense back, the lightweight quilt that had been thrown to the floor sometime in the night clutched in his fingers. "You      mean like a shrink?_

_"A therapist," Jensen corrected, treading softly. "Someone you could..."_

_"I'm not crazy," he blurted out, a little too loud in the night quiet room._

_"No one is saying that you are. What happened with_ him _," Jensen looked at the hardwood floor, a darker lacquer than before now staining the boards to hide the even darker      sin that couldn't be washed out of the grain, "before and now...it's affected you. There's no way it couldn't. What you went through, what you all went through," he licked his      lips, "for years..." He shook his head and paused for a moment to collect his thoughts and clear the emotion from his throat. "I really believe you should talk with someone to      help you deal with..."_

_"I **am** dealing with it!" Jared interrupted, yelling as he angrily tossed the blanket to the floor. _

_"No, you're not!" Jensen's pitch unconsciously matched Jared's and he cringed when the other man flinched back. He took a slow, deep breath in the hopes of finding the      serenity necessary to have this conversation. He had to stay calm if he was ever going to get Jared to see they needed someone to talk to that could help them better      understand their feelings and sort through the trauma. During his time in Chicago working with abuse victims, he'd seen too many refuse treatment and then either suffer      long-reaching mental issues or, in some cases, succumb to the helplessness and depression. He'd stood by too many coroner's tables with the clouded eyes of people he'd      "saved" staring back at him, feeling like he'd let them down by not helping them deal with their pain. He was determined to keep that from happening to Jared and the boys      and wouldn't back down on the issue. "Jay," he held out his hand beseechingly, voice quieter, "you're **not** dealing with it. You put on this brave face for me, for the kids, hell,      for the whole damn world, but you're not okay. You need help and, as much as it kills me to say this, I'm not qualified to give it to you." Even with the overwhelming desire to      be there for them, to be everything they needed, Jensen knew that he wasn't equipped or trained to do this for them. They needed a professional_.

_"What I need is to put this whole fucking thing behind me," Jared seethed, snatching his pillow up off the mattress and fluffing it harshly. "Not some goddamn person I don't      even know, prodding and poking at shit that's best left the fuck alone." He threw the pillow at the headboard and turned away from the bed to pace out his agitation. He just      wanted to forget about Timothy, about the abuse and the past, and move on with their future and he damn sure didn't want the twins to have to relive it. He would get      passed this, he had everything under control, and he didn't need some stranger in his head jumbling things up and eroding his carefully constructed walls._

_"Jared."_

_"No! I don't need some shrink to tell me that I screwed up! To tell me how weak and pathetic I was. I know that," he faced Jensen and pounded his fist against his chest to      emphasize his point, "better than anyone. I stayed. I didn't fight back. I put the boys in danger." His fist connected against his breastbone with each sentence, tears of pain      and guilt dripping from his jaw. "It's my fault. I'm flaying myself alive already, why do I need someone else to pick up a knife? Just another judge when I've already been      convicted." Running out of steam, Jared's knees buckled under the weight of his emotions and he fell to the floor._

_"Jared!" Jensen rushed around the end of the bed and managed to catch his fiancé' as he crumpled. Cradling him close, he held him to his chest and smoothed back his hair.      "You are not to blame for this and you are not weak! You're the strongest person I know. Everything you did was to protect the people you loved, to keep us safe. You      sacrificed so much and, to me, that makes you a hero. And you did fight back. When you left Atlanta with the twins and here... Jared, you put up one hell of a fight that      night." Jensen tightened his arms around the shaking man and kissed his temple. "Please, Jay. It hurts me to see you like this and I'm scared."_

_Jared pulled his head back to look at Jensen, his face just visible in the dark. "Scared of what? Of me?"_

_"Not of you, for you. I can't lose you, Jay. I thought I did when..."he swallowed. "I can't..."_

_Jared cupped his cheek, his thumb sweeping away the wetness under green eyes. "I don't want to talk about it," he whispered._

_Turning his head to press a kiss to the meat of Jared's palm, Jensen sniffled. "I know you don't, but I don't really see a way through this without it."_

_Jared studied him for a long moment as Jensen rocked them back and forth. "I'll think about it."_

A tense week passed, Jensen not pushing and Jared not conceding, but the topic weighing heavily on both of them before Jared finally faced the fact that Jensen might be right.

He'd woken up for the fourth night in a row, tears blurring his vision and their predecessors drying cold on his cheeks, heart beating wildly and breath stuck low in his chest. Jensen's face floated above him, soft words and a gentle thumb rubbing over the inside of his wrist guiding him from the horror of his nightmare world to the calmness of his reality. The creaking of the bedroom door snapped his attention to the two figures standing in the doorway, terror evident the sad green eyes that flickered between their Daddy and their Papa looming above him. While living out dreams of his past, Jared's real-world screams and calls for help in the present had drawn them. Jensen motioned the boys closer and they haltingly entered, eyes, wary like cowered animals, never strayed from Jensen, before running to Jared's side. Seeing the suspicion in their faces and shushing their scared sobbing, his own fear leaving him slowly as the nightmare waned, Jared realized they needed help.

The twins went through three people and Jared saw several more than that before they each found someone that they felt comfortable in confiding. The twins saw Dr. Miner, a child therapist that specialized in abused children. Jared witnessed through a two-way mirror all of the initial interactions that the twins had with the counselors to gauge the boys' receptiveness and knew Rachel was the one when, at the beginning of the session, she sat on the floor and proceeded to play Candyland with them for the entire hour. She didn't interrogate. She didn't question. She didn't force. She simply talked with them as their plastic people navigated around the Peppermint Forest and visited Princess Lolly and Lord Licorice, getting them to express themselves more than the previous two had combined.

Jared was a little pickier about his choice, but after a handful of appointments with several people, he settled on Dr. Pascal. Pedro had gone back to college and earned a Masters in Psychology after he fled an abusive wife. He understood the stigma that Jared felt for being an abused man and could sympathize with Jared for staying due to fear of losing his children. Shared experiences forged a kinship that allowed Jared to open up and start healing. Even though therapy was Jensen's idea, he went through a dark patch after Jared started seeing Pedro. He couldn't help but be jealous that Jared talked with the therapist about what happened, but kept a lot of things from him. He was going to be Jared's husband and, as such, should be his primary confidant. In a twisted way, he felt betrayed and a little threatened and in an unconscious retaliation started to pull away. A few days later, he received a phone call from Dr. Pascal asking him to stop by his office. Jensen grudgingly sat on the couch in the man's unassuming office and reluctantly listened as Pedro talked to him. Jensen's demeanor thawed as Pedro explained that his feelings were perfectly normal, that Jensen shouldn't consider him an adversary for Jared's attention, but an ally in Jared's recovery. He urged Jensen to seek counseling of his own, holding his hand up when Jensen started to protest, to point out that Timothy's abuse hadn't been exclusive to Jared and the twins, but had affected Jensen, as well. He reminded Jensen that the first thing they tell parents to do on a plane during an emergency is to put their oxygen mask on first. You can't help others if you don't take care of yourself and the best way to help Jared and the twins through their ordeal was to seek help for himself. Jensen could clearly see why Jared chose him and when he left the man's office that day it was with an appointment card for another session.

Sitting on the ground on this summer day, beneath the protective limbs of the tree in their font yard, happiness surrounding him and floating on the air, Jared was glad that Jensen had suggested the therapy. He wasn't sure if this would have been possible without it.

"You know," Jensen's low voice pulled his from his thoughts, "it's hard to believe that in just a little over a month, you'll finally be Jared Ackles."

"Mmm-hmm," he agreed, sleepily, the day and a restless night with Pear conspiring to pull him under.

"Unless of course," the hint of playfulness was evident in Jensen's voice, "you've changed your mind."

Jared lazily opened his eyes. Just over the trees at the side of the property, he could make out the vague outline of the time-worn weather vane adorning the top of Donna and Alan's barn. "Nah. I think you'll do. I've gotten you broken in just the way I want you. I don't have the energy to start over with someone else."

"Broken in?" Jensen echoed. "Like an old pair of shoes?"

Jared just smiled and his eyes slipped shut, letting the statement hang.

"Gee thanks," Jensen mockingly grumbled, a muttered "show you an old pair of shoes" pressed into the shaggy hair.

Wrapping his hands around the outside of Jensen's thighs, Jared let all his muscles relax. Since Easter there had been a flurry of activity, a plethora of bustling here and there as both families and most of the town made preparations for what was widely considered the wedding of the season. They appreciated the help, but it was getting to be a little much. The constant wedding planning had drained their time and attention, leaving little for their growing family. It was one of the reasons that Jensen and Jared had agreed they all needed a day off.

There was a thunder of feet and a shadow fell across Jared, the smell of little boy sweat and new mown grass filling his nose. Blinking his eyes open, he gazed up at Teddy and Benji, hair matted and jeans stained green at the knees, standing beside them. They each held a baseball glove - Teddy's a traditional russet color and Benji's black as the seat covers in the Impala - playing with the laces with guarded faces.

"Papa?

Jared could feel the moment Jensen noticed the sobering of their mood, the carefree joy of just a few minutes ago all but gone from their young faces. Jensen sat up higher, adjusting his back against the tree and Jared in front of him so both were comfortable, and gave his sons his full attention. "What's the matter?"

Teddy shuffled his toe back and forth, a dark groove appearing in the rain moist soil and black flecks spattering on his shoes, and gave his brother a sidelong glance.

Benji bent the fingers of his glove back. "Are you _really_ going to let us play baseball?"

"Yes," Jensen answered simply without pause, hand reaching out to take the abused glove and curling the fingers toward the palm again. "What makes you think I won't"

Teddy's eyes darted away, looking off in the direction of the road, and Benji bit his bottom lip. Both sets of shoulders shrugged meekly.

"Boys," Jensen breathed, the word weary and resigned, but enough to get the twins' attention. "I'm not going to say there will never be broken promises, things sometimes come up unexpectedly, but I will always do everything in my power to keep my word to you. I need you to believe that. I need you to believe in me. I always try to keep my promises."

"Y-yes sir." Teddy answered softly, Benji echoing him. They tentatively looked up at Jensen and he could see the internal struggle in their eyes. Experience battling faith.

He handed the glove back to Benji. "Why don't you go play for a little bit longer and then we'll have lunch?"

Benji took the glove and cradled it to his chest. Smiles lit up their faces and chased the lingering wariness away at the mention of food. "Grilled cheese?"

"I think I can manage that." Jensen returned their smiles, thankful that, for now, their moods could be swayed so easily.

"And French fries?" Teddy asked, hopefully.

"And French fries," Jensen nodded, rolling his eyes. Teddy would live on French fries if they would let him.

"And orange slices." Jared added, bending his knees to shift his weight with a slight grimace and missing the three scrunched noses at the addition to the menu.

"Go on and play." Jensen chucked his chin in the direction of the abandoned baseball lying in the grass near the front porch. "We'll head in, in a minute."

"Okay!" They chorused, the rustle of denim and squeak of shoe rubber fading as they returned to their game of catch.

Jensen tensed as an overthrown ball rolled close to the back tire of the Impala, releasing his breath when it bumped harmlessly off the sidewall. "Watch out for the cars!"

Jared tilted his head to the side, squinting one eye against a bright sunbeam and considered Jensen's face. It was open, even slightly amused as the boys tossed the ball back and forth, but Jared could see the closely-hidden tension. He knew that the boys' doubts weighed heavily on the other man and this most recent conversation was bringing them to the surface. "Don't be angry with them. Their whole lives have been built on lies and broken promises. It's what their conditioned to expect and something that deep-seeded isn't going to go away overnight."

"I'm not angry with them," Jensen replied, immediately. "I'm fucking furious with Olyphant for ever making them think they couldn't trust anyone. Kids shouldn't be so jaded." He sighed, face softening. "You're right, though. One year with me isn't going to erase six years with _him_." He practically spat the word.

Seeing the sour expression return, Jared rested his palm on Jensen's thigh and gave it a reassuring squeeze. "I know it doesn't seem like it, but the fact that they even considered asking about it again shows they want to believe you. They never would have dared with Timothy."

Jensen pressed his cheek to the side of Jared's head and rubbed his hands down then up his lover's long legs, bring them to rest under the swell of their daughter. "I just wish there was a way for me to wave a magic wand or say a spell or something that would take everything that bastard did away. I should never have left you, not back then, and not in February."

Shifting so that his back was against Jensen's leg, Jared stared up at him, fingers lightly tracing the stubble on his cheek. "You didn't know." He tapped Jensen's chin lightly when green eyes darted away from his. "You couldn't have known. It's over. It's in the past. All that matters now is this," he waved his free hand to encompass the farmhouse and the twin boys chasing each other around the cars, "and this," he covered Jensen's hand and shifted it to the left where Pear was nudging against his side, "and this," he kissed him softly. "Give us a little time and the rest will work itself out."

"Baby steps?" Jensen threaded his fingers with Jared's and brought them up to kiss his wrist.

"Baby steps," Jared nodded and squeezed his fingers.

 

******

 

Jensen rolled over, questing hand sweeping over the other side of the bed and coming up empty. He opened his eyes and shifted up on his elbow, taking in the scene before him. Jared stood in silhouette at the window, gaze distant, with one arm resting over the upper curve of his belly while his other hand cupped the bottom arc. The cool summer breeze fluttered the curtains around him and the diffuse light of the moon encapsulated him in a blue haze, the combination making him appear ethereal. Oblivious to Jensen's quiet contemplation, a small smile played over Jared's lips and his hands began smoothing tender circles over the skin. His eyes drifted to his distended middle and, even from Jensen's vantage point across the room, were so full of love and adoration that it made the older man's breath catch at the privilege of being able to witness it.

Licking his lips, he gently cleared his throat. "You okay?"

Jared startled slightly, his hands pausing in their ministrations before restarting. "Yeah," he whispered.

"My baby girl keeping you up?"

"Just restless."

Slipping out of bed, Jensen's feet barely made a sound as he crossed to his fiance'. "You or her?" He wrapped his arms around Jared and pressed a kiss to his shoulder.

Shrugging, Jared sighed. "Both, maybe? I don't know if I'm making her that way or if she's making me"

Jensen palmed the sides of Jared's stomach, marveling at the pinwheel movements of his daughter and wondering how it must feel from the inside. "My bets are on her. She's really wound up."

Laying his hands over Jensen's, Jared nodded. "Yeah, she's pretty hyper tonight. Probably should lay off the ice cream before bed." He stared back out the window, almost as if searching the trees and fields for something.

Jensen watched him for a minute. "You sure everything is all right?"

Deep furrows erupted over unblinking eyes. "Yeah," the reply finally came, the hesitation and lack of conviction belying the word. "I just..." Jared bit the inside of this cheek and shook his head, continuing to stare into the calm night. "I don't know. I feel...uneasy or something." He turned in the circle of Jensen arms. "Probably just hormones." He scrunched up his nose. "I think your baby girl has hijacked most of my emotions. She's way worse than the twins."

"Is that so?" Jensen tilted his head up and feathered a kiss over Jared's lips.

"Mmm-hmm," Jared mumbled into the kiss. "She's going to be a real troublemaker. Keep us on our toes."

"I think we can handle it." He indulged in one more kiss, his hands rubbing up and down Jared's back and causing him to arch deeply into the massaging touch. Jared's eyes slid shut as he shifted to the side for Jensen to get to a particularly tight muscle and Jensen drank in the sight. His heart filled with more emotion than he could process, choking him on his awe and love for the man before him and the three children he'd blessed Jensen with. "You ever think about having more?"

"More what?" Jared moaned at the exquisite pressure along his back."

"More kids."

Jared stilled, his eyes opening to stare at Jensen. After a long pause, he realized the other man was serious. "How about I finish baking this one and let's see how crazy life becomes before we talk about more?"

Shrugging Jensen nuzzled his nose with Jared's. "We'll already be outnumbered. If you have three, may as well have six." He smirked at Jared's surprised squawk, holding him snuggly to his chest when the taller man tried to shift away.

The room was quiet, save the serenade of the crickets and cicadas in the field bordering the house, long enough that Jensen worried his joking had maybe given Jared a stroke. Finally, Jared licked his lips and nodded woodenly. "Okay."

"Okay?" This time Jensen pulled back, shocked by the backfire.

"Yeah," Jared nodded again, an unsure smile pulling at his mouth. "But if we do this, I think we should go about this fairly, though. I had the first three so it only seems right that you have the next three. Equal partnership and all."

Jensen studied Jared face and relaxed when he could see Jared struggling to keep his laughter from bubbling out. "You little shit, you had me going for a second." Jensen rolled his eyes. "Alright, alright. No talking about more kids until after Pear arrives."

"A long while after Pear arrives." Jared corrected, eyebrows raised for emphasis.

"Agreed." Jensen kissed him. In the room across the hall, the bed creaked as one of the twins rolled over in their sleep. "We still need figure out a way to tell the twins that I'm their father. I mean, they already know that they're my munchkins and I'm their Papa, but I want them and everybody else to know that they're _mine mine_ , you know. Plus, I don't want them believing that they came from Olyphant or that he can take them away from me."

Jared sighed. "I know. Me, too. I keep trying to figure out how to tell them, but it all seems so..." He shook his head. "How do you tell six-year-olds that the man they think is their father lied so he could use them as leverage against their Dad and the man that they love and has been there for them is actually their real father?"

"That sounded pretty good to me. Maybe gentle it down a little, but I think that covers it pretty plainly."

Jared huffed in tired exasperation. "Deputy."

"Jared," Jensen interrupted, taking his hand and leading him to the bed. He hadn't intended for them to have a heart-to-heart in the middle of the night, but it appeared that they were going to anyway. He sat on the edge of the mattress and tugged his lover down next to him. "All we can do is be honest and upfront. Jay," his thumb rubbed over the body warm gold surrounding a long, slender ring finger, "you weren't there with them that night at the hospital." His gaze drifted to the floor, the spot where he'd found Jared on that awful night, and he bit his lip. "They saw enough of what happened to know that Olyphant is a bad man. It wouldn't be much of a stretch for them to believe he could do something like that."

Jared watched the thumb track back and forth over the three diamonds embedded in his engagement ring - past, present and future glinting up at him in the moon light. If they were ever going to move on, they needed to bury the past and to do that, everything needed to be out in the open. The twins needed to know. He peered through his bangs at Jensen. "You really think they'll be able to handle it?"

"They might be confused and upset, but, yeah, I do. It's gotta' be better than believing that their Father hated them and beat their Daddy."

Jared nodded. "You're right. It's just..." Bottom lip caught between his teeth, Jared grimaced. "I just don't want them to think any of this was their fault and if we tell them that he was just using them to hurt me, they might. I don't want them carrying that guilt around. They're making progress with Rachel. What if this sets them back?"

Moving his arm around broad shoulders, Jensen pressed a kiss to Jared's temple. "There's nothing to say that if we wait, it won't be worse of a setback later on. I understand that you don't want them to think they're to blame and I don't either, but I still think they should know the truth. They already have trust issues, keeping things from them isn't going to help with those."

"I know." Jared leaned over and rested his head on Jensen's shoulder. "When do you want to do it?"

"Now?" Jensen smiled sheepishly when Jared angled his head to look at him. "We should probably talk with Rachel before we do anything. She might have some advice on how to go about it or she might even want to be there for moral support."

"Good idea." Jared's hair tickled Jensen's neck as he nodded, his hand coming up to stifle a yawn.

"Every once in a while, I have one." Jensen squeezed him once more before he pulled away. "It's late. Let's go back to bed." Taking Jared's hand in his, he guided the other man to the other side of the bed and coaxed him down to the mattress.

Settling in, curved along a muscular back with his arm looped over two of his four most favorite people, Jensen softly whispered. "I love you."

Jared stared out the window, fingers lazily drawing patterns on the arm around him. "Love you, too, Deputy."

At the end of the long driveway, a black car slowly idled by the newly installed mailbox, the reflective house numbers nailed to the supporting post and the side pristine awaiting the occupants' new moniker. There was a soft whirr and a long shadow appeared out the driver's side window. A crack split the quiet country evening, rousing birds from their roosts in the fields and sending them aloft. Dented metal landed on the dirt road with a muted thud and kicked up a small puff of dust, it's mouth yawning open. The window slowly went up, tinting the sight of the battered mailbox and the picturesque homestead with a shade of grey, and the car continued on. Places to go, people to see.

 

*****

 

The jingle of a bell heralded the departure of the two patrons of Devine's Divines, Loretta happily waving them goodbye as she collected the small plates from the table. Jared held the door, allowing Genevieve to pass under his arm and into the bright July sunshine. Pressing firmly on the door to make sure it latched and would keep the air conditioning inside the small shop, Jared fell into step with the petite brunette.

"Oh God," Genevieve moaned dramatically rubbing her just noticeable baby bump. "We should never have stopped for lunch at Sam's before that cake tasting. I think I'm going to explode!"

"I didn't know that she would have 20 samples!" Jared laughed, shuddering a little at the lingering flavor of the chocolate ganache they had tried last. It was sublime, but almost too rich. "Plus, Sam would have been beside herself if one of us hadn't stopped in so she could get her baby fix."

"True." Dark chocolate eyes rolled, not denigrating the indulgent fondness in them. Sam's only child, Alona, had been killed while Jensen was away at college, a late night drive home from a friend's house ending badly when her car hit a patch of black ice, and she was living the vicarious grandparent life through Jared and Genevieve."Still doesn't help the fact that, between Carly here," she patted the side of her stomach, "and Loretta's cakes, I can barely breathe."

They slowed as they approached Gen's car. Jared turned and smiled knowingly at her, an eyebrow arched. "Carly?" She and Austin had been tossing around names for the past few weeks and he knew that she had her heart set on Melissa, but Austin was reluctant as he didn't want his little girl to be called Missy.

"Trying it on for size," Gen shrugged. "Austin is dead set on it, but I don't know," she made an unimpressed face. "Have y'all settled on anything or is she destined to be Pear for the rest of her life?"

"Actually, we're letting the twins pick her name." Jared laughed at the apparent shock on his friend's face. "We thought it would be a good way to include them in the pregnancy. I think they were feeling a bit replaceable with all the fuss over Pear being a girl."

Genevieve nodded. There had been a quiet but serious conversation in their house after a throw-away comment Hunter made about their own new addition and his place in the family. "What did they decide on?"

"I have no idea. They refuse to tell us until she's born."

"And you're not worried that they'll name her after a Pokemon character or a superhero?" She leaned her hip against the side of her car and played with the keychain the boys made her for her birthday.

"No." Jared bit the inside of his cheek. "Not much. Maybe just a little." He held up his hand to show his forefinger and thumb a small distance away from each other.

She laughed. "You two are brave men. That's all I've got to say."

A black car sped down the street, going too fast for the foot travelled main road. As it approached them, it slowed to the posted speed limit, the driver apparently realizing his error and continued on it's way out of town. Jared stared after it, the same sense of unease from a few nights before crawling over his skin and making him shiver. Turning his attention back to his companion, he frowned at her sudden somber expression. "You okay?"

"Thank you," she said, sincerely.

A strong brow creased in confusion. "For what?"

"For this." She squeezed his arm. "Asking me to come with you. I needed a day...away. Don't get me wrong, Austin's been great, but he watches me like..." She shook her head, a sad smile crossing her face.

"Like he'll lose you." Jared cupped her shoulder gently. "The way he did Tracey."

"Yeah," Genevieve breathed. "He's so afraid. All the time. I don't know what to do." Her voice caught, emotion glistening in her eyes when she turned them toward him. "How did you get Jensen past it? I mean, even with everything that happened, he seems to be handling it okay. "

"Trust me, he's not. He just doesn't let me catch him watching." He glided his fingers down her arm, taking her small hand in his. "He worries a lot - the whole town does - but Jen and I talked about it. We can't live our lives constantly afraid. It's not good for us and it's definitely not good for the twins or Pear. If I spent the rest of my life in the house and never left, then it would be like Timothy still controlled me, like he won. I refuse to let that happen."

The woman's disbelief was evident. "That was entirely too well adjusted for me. Some might say bordering on psychotically optimistic."

Jared smiled. "I'm not stupid. I know that as long as Timothy is out there, I'm still in danger and so are the twins. We try make sure we're as safe as we can be without completely giving up our lives. In the end, that's all we can do, Gen. Stay healthy and safe and reassure them that we're here and we're okay."

"I know. I just wish I could help him," she blinked, trying to keep new tears from forming. "Sorry." She shook her head and visibly steeled herself, giving a watery chuckle. "Well, I'm awesome company, aren't I? Drudging up crap and crying like a baby. Bet you're wishing you'd asked Chad to come with you instead." She swiped hastily at her eyes.

Jared thumbed a stray tear from her cheek. "Yeah, cause just what Chad needs is a bunch of sugar. Penn would never forgive me."

"At least he's always good for a laugh."

"And a guaranteed catastrophe," he smirked. "I think I picked the perfect person. Smart, funny and not likely to burn Loretta's place down." He pulled her into a hug and kissed the top of her head, whispering into her hair, "It'll be okay, Gen. You'll see. And, if you need it, I know a great therapist that is already well versed in the Ackles special brand of stubbornness."

Chuckling, she patted his chest as they separated. She smoothed her fingers over the wet spot she'd left on his shirt. "Well, I'm not sure I was much help."

"Of course, you were. Because of our hard work and painstaking dedication, Jensen was spared having to taste all those different cakes. Because of your selflessness, he only has to pick between three instead of twenty." Jared shook his wrist, the bag with samples of their top three favorites rustling with the motion.

She signed dramatically, a smile playing across her lips. "It _was_ a hardship."

"You deserve a medal." Jared replied, seriously.

They both laughed, their mood returning to the light-heartedness they shared earlier, as the clock at City Hall rang out the time, long and loud.

Even with the tolling of the hour, Gen checked her watch out of habit. "Wow! I've had a great time, but I've got to get going. I still need to stop off at Misha's to get a few things for dinner. You want a ride to your car?"

"Nah. Thanks, though. Donna has the kids for the afternoon so I'm headed over to the bar for a few hours before I have to pick them up."

"See?" Genevieve exclaimed, throwing her hands up in the air.

Jared raised his eyebrows, unsure of where her thoughts went and waiting for directions on how to get there.

"Jensen still lets you work at the bar and Austin is freaking out about me going back to the classroom."

"Oh, there was a freak out. And not just from Jensen, but Chad and Chris and Steve and Donna and Alan and JG." He ticked the names off on his fingers. "Should I continue?"

Rolling her eyes, she shook her head. "No. So how did you convince them to let you stay working there?"

"Compromise," Jared shrugged. "I've been regulated to doing the books and I have to be gone before it opens."

"But still," she scrunched her nose, "the smoke?"

"Steve took care of that, too. He had the ducts cleaned and made Firewater a 100% non-smoking establishment so I could still work there." Jared grinned, oddly proud of his friend's decision. "He built a small patio off the back for those patrons that want to smoke, but inside the bar is a nicotine-free zone."

Gen huffed a laugh, pressing the button on her key fob to unlock the car door. "You do realize that we have awesome friends, right?"

"Yes. Yes, I do." Jared nodded, opening the door for her. "You know, I was worried at first that he was going to hurt his business by making people go outside, but the patio has worked out well all around. People seem to really like sitting out there and enjoying the night with their drinks. It's become pretty popular. In fact, according to JG, on the weekends there are more people outside than inside. Steve's considering expanding it and adding an outdoor bar and a small stage for bands."

"Wow," she tossed her purse onto the passenger seat. "A bar that is doing better now that you can't smoke in it. Who would have thought? And it's all because of you, little Pikachu." She leaned forward to talk face-to-belly to Jared's bump.

"Oh God," Jared groaned. "Don't even joke about that."

"Sorry," Gen smirked, not sounding even the remotest bit apologetic. "I do have to go, though, or I'll have some upset gentlemen at the dinner table tonight." She climbed into her car and he closed it behind her. Rolling down the window, she waved. "Bye, Jared. Thanks again for inviting me."

"You're welcome." Jared waved, scowling at her parting "Bye, Jigglypuff" and roaring laugh as she drove away.

Shaking his head, he started down the sidewalk. Whistling the Pokemon theme song, he waved at Jim shifting items around in his window display as he passed the hardware store on his way to Firewater.

 

*****

 

"You're sure that's it?" Chris leaned over Danneel's back, squinting at the thumbnail image on her computer screen.

"Pretty sure." Danneel clicked the picture to enlarge it.

"Danni, I need you to be positive. If I go and get the wrong..."

"I'm positive, Chris," Danneel corrected. "This is it."

"I thought they'd were going with the blue one. You know, with the monkeys?" Chris grabbed the mouse and clicked on a different tab to show the crib set he was referring to.

Slapping his hand away, Danneel pulled the previous webpage back up. "Chris, Donna sent me the link this morning. Apparently, they decided on _this_ one. The colors compliment the room better and it had all the animals on it."

"As long as you're sure. " He held up his hands in surrender at her glare then took control of the mouse again to scroll down to see the other accessories available. "So, are all the guys going in on this or just us?" He clicked on the mobile and smiled at the dangling plush animals.

"Not me," Milo piped up from his desk, eyes never leaving the phone in his hands. "Sandy's making a baby blanket from us."

"Penn's not either." Danneel added, looking at the lamp that matched the crib set. "He and Chad are getting Pear something 'epic' from the both of them." She twitched her fingers in air-quotes, mind still reeling over what Chad would consider 'epic' for a baby. She sincerely hoped that Penn had final approval.

"Okay, so that would split the set between," he paused to count out the remaining members of the Sheriff's department on his fingers only to be interrupted by the ringing office phone. Checking the Caller ID, he answered it with a grin, sitting on the edge of Danneel's desk. "If this is a booty call, you're a little late for a noon-er. Lunch break's over, darlin'."

"I'm sure that wouldn't stop you." Steve kicked the store room door closed and shifted the box in his arms, careful to not dislodge the phone cradled between his ear and shoulder.

"You know me so well. You got a problem that I need to come over and handle for you?" Chris winked at Danneel.

"Oh God. Can you please not do that on my phone?" She groaned, making a half-hearted attempt to snatch it away. "You're defiling it. I'll have to get the bleach."

"You love us." Chris held the handset away from his mouth to make kissy faces in her direction. Milo's guffaw, an audience laugh track to the scene.

Steve snorted a laugh at the antics going on between his lover and their friend. "As much fun as that sounds," he set the box on the bar, "I was actually calling to talk with Jensen."

"Jensen? You better not be calling him for a noon-er," Chris playfully growled.

"Uh, that's a big ten-no, good buddy." Steve opened the cardboard flaps, eyeing the supply levels behind the bar. "I was wondering if Jared's feeling okay. He was supposed to come in today and he's late... which Jared never is." He unpacked a few items and reached in again. "I thought maybe he wasn't feeling well and Jen forgot to let me know."

Chris frowned. "He's not there?"

"No. Why? Should I be more worried than I am?" Steve froze, napkins in one hand and drink stirs in the other.

"Maybe." Chris' voice was tense, all joking gone. "I saw him three hours ago at Sam's. He was having lunch with Genevieve then was going for a cake tasting at Loretta's place before coming in to work."

Covering the receiver with his hand, he leaned over to Danneel. "Call Genevieve. See if she's with Jared?"

There was a flurry of red hair as the woman scurried over to Milo's desk. Yanking his phone up by the cord, her fingers were already dialing before she even checked for a dial tone.

"You don't think?" Steve dropped the napkins and stirs and grabbed onto the edge of the counter. "Chris?"

"I don't know what to think?" Chris tried to infuse some modicum of the calm he knew his lover needed from him, but was finding it hard. "Let's not panic until we know there is something to panic about. Hold on a sec." He turned toward Danneel. "Danni?"

Danneel's voice was urgent and low, her grip on the phone tight and bloodless. "You're sure? He said he was going to Firewater?" She paused, nodding her head as she listened. "And he was feeling all right?" She turned to Chris and shook her head, eyes wide and face pale. Milo's arm wrapped around her shoulders and she gratefully leaned into him. "Yeah. Thanks, Gen." A trembling hand came up to cover her mouth to hide her frightened breathing from her pregnant friend on the other end of the line. Swallowing, she continued, "no, I'm sure it's nothing. I bet he decided to run an errand or something before heading in. You know mother-henning these guys can be. Jared so much as sneezes and they all want the thermostat turned up." Licking her lips, she nodded. "You, too. Bye."

Numbly, she set the receiver back on the cradle. "She left Jared an hour and a half ago. He was feeling fine and in a good mood. She says he was headed over to Firewater before he went to get the twins from Donna."

"Chris!" Steve's shout reminded Chris that his lover was still on the phone waiting for information. "What's happened? Where's Jared?"

Milo helped Danneel into his chair and darted into Jensen's office. On the days that Jared worked, he always parked on the stretch of street visible through the office's back window, his way of letting Jensen know where he was. Coming back out, Milo moved with a purpose toward Chris. "Jared's truck is still out there."

"Shit," Chris mumbled, his heart was thundering in his chest. This was not happening again. A low buzz started up in his ear, growing in intensity. "Steve, I gotta' go."

"Chris?" Steve had heard everything and the pieces were clicking in his mind just as they were in Chris', the picture was a horrifying one. JG walked out of the back room, eyes drawn to his frantic boss. He grasped the larger man's arm, face alarmed. "What happened?" He whispered.

Milo stood between his friends and colleagues, taken slightly aback by the lost looks on their faces. He could hear Steve talking, but Chris seemed unable at the moment to answer. Gently taking the phone from Chris' grasp, he put it up to his ear. "Steve, it's Milo. Look, we need to make some calls and find out what's going on. Is someone there with you?" He had a feeling that Steve was in a similar state as Chris and didn't want the man alone.

"Milo?" Steve questioned.

"Yeah, Steve." Milo was trying to be patient, but time was ticking and there were things that needed to be done. "Is someone there with you?" He asked again, voice measured, but firm.

"Yeah, um, JG's here. Is Chris okay?" Steve shook his head when JG repeated his question, not concerned with the man beside him, but with the one they couldn't place.

"Chris is fine. He's got a lot to do. I'll have him call you as soon as we know something, okay?"

"What should I do? I want to help."

"Just," Milo took a deep breath. "Just stay there for now in case this is all a big misunderstanding and Jared shows up. And keep your phone on," he added as an afterthought before hanging up.

Squaring his shoulders, Milo grabbed Chris by the arm. "Where's Jensen?" When Chris didn't answer, he snapped his fingers in front of Chris' face, sighing when blue eyes found his. "Where's Jensen?" He repeated.

Chris shook his head, confused gaze landing on the hand that had held the phone, not remembering ending the call. Slowly, he looked up at Milo, his mind kicking back into gear. "Jensen's," he shook his head again, trying to clear the lingering buzz. "Jensen's over at the feed store. Austin got a large shipment of supplies today so he went to help him load it."

"Chris, someone has to go tell Jensen." Milo dipped down and held the older man's gaze to make sure he was listening. "Are you able to do that or should I go?"

Tilting his head side to side to pop his neck, Chris stood up. "I'll go. I should be the one to tell him." Looking at the phone again, he furrowed his eyebrow. "Steve?"

"I told him you'd call later. Go on and get Jensen. I'll call Sheriff Jones, Tom, Mike and Penn and we'll meet up back here." Milo turned to check on Danneel, who was still sitting where he'd left her with a faraway look on her face, but Chris' hand stopped him.

Milo was young, in life and in the profession, but Chris always believed he's step up when it counted. "You did good, kid. Thanks."

"Anytime," Milo smiled. "Now, let's find Jared and nail this bastard."

 

****

 

Austin grunted as he hefted a bag of barley into the bed of his work truck. A soft chirp came from his back pocket and he wiped the dust from his hands on his pants to dig his phone out. He moved out of the way so Jensen could slide a container of molasses in beside the barley, thumbing the screen and smiling at the text message. "Remind me to thank Jared later."

"For what?" Jensen turned and picked up some boxes of liquid vitamins to add to the growing pile in the truck. "You really need a bigger truck, man. I don't think this is all going to fit on this load."

"Well, when I win the lottery, the dealership will be my first stop. So, fingers crossed." Austin snarked, flinging a roll of twine on top of the sacks of grain.

"You know, you don't have to pay cash for everything. That's why the banks give loans." Jensen shoved a bag of rabbit feed in the small space around the wheel well. He paused, a thought occurring to him. "You're doing okay, right? I mean, we all kinda' let you do your thing with it comes the farm, but if you're having financial trouble, we'll be there."

"I know that." Austin shouldered his brother out of the way to push another bag of rabbit feed into the same space. "The farm's fine, Jen. Unless we have a terrible harvest this fall, we're on schedule for our most profitable year yet. Especially now that the fine state of Colorado has returned the bail money I forked out to spring your sorry ass." He hip-checked Jensen on his way back to the loading dock. "Call me superstitious or whatever, I just don't want to take on any big debts before the baby is born and Old Blue here runs just fine."

"I get it." Jensen nodded, catching the bag of oats Austin tossed to him. "It's the same reason Jared and I decided to forego the honeymoon for now. You never know what's going to happen."

"Jensen!"

Jensen turned to see Chris jogging around the side of the building, hair a mess and face red.

"Now there's a true friend." Austin rolled his eyes. "Shows up when all the work is done."

"Chris?" As his friend neared, Jensen could clearly see that something that happened. "What's wrong?"

Chris ran up to the men and stopped, hands on his knees as he tried to catch his breath. "It's," he stood up and moved his hands to the small of his arched back in the hopes of getting more air in his lungs. "It's Jared," he panted.

Jensen must have heard wrong, because he swore Chris had said that something was wrong with Jared. Austin was at his side instantly, eyes narrowed at their friend. "What about Jared?" He asked and Jensen was once again happy to have him as a brother because his voice seemed to have left him.

Taking a deep breath, Chris exhaled. "He's missing."

Jensen could hear Austin saying his name, but it sounded like he was calling to him from the top of a well while Jensen drowned in the water at the base. The world tilted and swayed as he bobbed on the surface before succumbing to the darkness at the bottom.

 

****

 

Jared's head hurt. Scratch that. Every part of Jared hurt. Slowly, he opened his eyes and looked around the dimness of his surroundings. He was in a barn, abandoned by the looks of it, and tied, hands bound behind him, to a hard-backed chair at the center. Light peeked in through the gaps in the boards, the burnt copper hue of sunset letting him know that he couldn't have been gone too long, but not answering how he got here.

He remembered leaving Gen at her car and walking down the sidewalk to the bar, but couldn't recall if he'd ever made it inside. He'd passed Beaver's Hardware, but anything after that was fuzzy and jumbled. Stilling, he forced down the rising panic and tried to focus. He couldn't see much beyond the open area around him. The light didn't penetrate the corners, the darkness giving them a sinister and threatening quality. Evil lurked in the darkness, but Jared knew it survived in the light as well so he wasn't concerned. He could smell blood, the metallic tang strong even over the scent of mold and decay wafting from the wood structure, and when he turned his head the hairs on the right side of his head pulled at the skin of his face. He didn't feel nauseated so it didn't seem he had a concussion.

He shifted on the unpadded seat, relieving some of the strain on his arm and rubbing the inside of his left bicep along the seat back. A small lump, no bigger than a grain of rice, rolled over the hard wood and Jared allowed himself a moment of hope.

Warm breath stirred the hairs at the nape of his neck, the sensation sending a shudder down his spine.

"Hello, Lover."

**Author's Note:**

> The story Jared read the boys was "Oh, The Places You'll Go" by Dr. Seuss


End file.
